The lake reflected the blueness of the sky. Earlier Cecelia had feared that it would rain, but once she and Louis pulled up to the lake on his Harley, the sun seemed to rush from behind a cloud to welcome them. Leaping off the cycle, she hurried down to the small sandy beach. There were rumors that the water had been polluted by the last major storm. Waste sludge supposedly had been carried in streams that led to the lake. Cecelia didn't care. Immediately she kicked off her sneakers and ran into the water. The water was chilly, but not cold, and if the sun stayed out, she figured the water would warm up quickly. She walked into the water up to her thighs, still a good distance from the ends of her cutoff denim shorts. Resisting the temptation to remove her halter top, Cecelia stooped over to pick up a handful of water, which she released above her head. Knowing that the white material of the halter would become transparent when wet, she scooped up a second handful, tossing it against her breasts.
When she turned to get Sade's reaction, she found that he had already headed for the shack.
"Louis!" she dared yell. "Louis, come into the water."
He never turned around. Instead he twisted the knob on the door and let the door swing open on its own. She watched him poke his head inside, but he seemed reluctant to move his entire body into the ramshackle hut.
"It's safe," she yelled. "Besides, we're not going to need it. See, the sun is out." She raised her hands to the sun in adoration.
Sade slipped off his black leather jacket and let it fall to the ground. She always marveled at what tight buttocks he had in his jeans. Tight certainly for an old man. His black silk shirt was a contrast in texture and fit to the jeans. The sleeves of the shirt were blousy. The cut of the shirt was full but still tapered.
His white hair, cut just short of his shoulders, blew in the swiftness of a summer breeze. A few shaggy strands fell onto his forehead as he looked down at the two steps leading into the shack.
"Louis!" she called again, but he climbed the steps and disappeared inside.
Reluctantly Cecelia made her way back to the beach, picking up her sneakers on her way to the shack.
"Louis, you should try out the water." She jogged up the two steps and ran into the shack.
Sade sat with bent knees on the wood floor, his back against the fake wood paneling of the wall.
"Sit down, ma chère. First close the door behind you."
"But we should at least let some sun in, or it'll be real dreary in here."
"Shut the door, Cecelia."
Compelled by the sound of his voice, she followed his instructions. As soon as the door closed, Sade pulled off his aviator sunglasses.
Even in the dimness of the shack, or perhaps because of it, Cecelia could see how white his flesh appeared under the blackness of the shirt. He seemed to glow, and his eyes shined a warm invitation. What the hell, she'd be able to reinforce her tan tomorrow.
She flung her sneakers across the tiny room, but when she sat down in front of Sade she felt the sharp pierce of a splinter enter her right buttock.
"Owww," she moaned. Lifting her buttock off the floor, she tried to locate the splinter.
"A problem, ma chère?"
"I have a splinter in my fanny."
"Viens ici, let me help." He moved forward, tucking his knees under him.
She felt his hands gently touch her flesh. His fingers were long, the nails well-manicured. But his touch was cold. Frigid, she thought, as he kneaded her flesh in search of the splinter.
"It's further up," she said, rising to her knees so that he would have a better view.
His left hand moved to her left buttock, and he massaged the soft baby fat of her ass.
"It's on the right side of my fanny," she said, not pulling away from his touch. "Ow! Right there. You've found it."
"Much too soon, ma chère."
Her rear shivered when he plucked the splinter out. She slipped her hands under his and began rubbing her own ass.
He pulled himself up onto his knees and pressed his body against hers. She could feel the hardness of his cock. With a gulp Cecelia cleared her throat.
"Have you seen the rest of the place?" she asked.
"I've seen only a portion of what I want to see," he answered.
Immediately she pulled away and stood.
"Over here we keep our cigs," she said, walking to the far wall. She pulled up a beige tarp and revealed several packs of cigarettes. "Sometimes we have weed when one of us can afford it. We're broke now." She looked back at Sade and found that he hadn't moved. His hands appeared to be turned palms outward exactly where her buttocks had been.
"Louis?"
"Oui." He stood and faced her with an obvious bulge disrupting the smoothness of his denim jeans.
Her eyes lingered a bit too long on his groin.
"Would you take pity on me, ma petite chérie?"
"Uh?" Confronted with the opportunity that she had been fantasizing about, her confidence wilted.
What if she were too inexperienced? What if he didn't like her body? Oh my God, when was her period due?
"The Hibachi is over there," she said, pointing to a sooty object in a dark corner of the room. "My friend and I can stay here all day. We'd probably sleep here, except our parents would blow a gasket."
"With whom do you spend the day?"
"My girlfriend, of course. Once I invited Joey down here. He's my... a guy who kind of likes me."
"And what did you and Joey do here?"
Cecelia was confused. She wasn't used to the burning flush stinging her cheeks.
"Do?"
"Yes. That day that you spent here with Joey. What did you two do?"
Sade stood perfectly still. A meanness seemed to creep into his blue-eyed stare. He opened several buttons of his shirt, and she could see the curly gray hairs that lay flat on his chest. She wanted to fluff up the hair, feel their downy softness.
He opened the rest of the buttons and removed his shirt.
"Ah, it is hot in here."
"That's why we should be in the water," she mechanically replied.
Sade used his right thumb to undo the snap on his jeans. He continued to stare at her.
Cecelia swallowed several times. Being with Joey was never this excruciatingly embarrassing. Things just seemed to happen when she was with him. Here the world had gone into slow motion, and she felt that she had to make a real decision. Making love with Louis Sade would not be an unbridled passion that she couldn't contain. She had to make the choice.
Suddenly she smelled the odor of her own sex. The moistness of her genitals fed the burning heat of her vagina. Her nipples ached, and the coolness of the water had dissipated while her breasts burned to be touched.
Another gulp of saliva slid down her throat as she undid the tie on her halter top.
Joey liked her breasts, but Joey had only been with one other girl. What did he know?
On the other hand, she was sure Sade had tasted the most exquisite of actresses and models. Women both young and old.
Cecelia took a deep breath and dropped the ends of the halter top. She saw a smile widen his thin lips. He liked what he saw. She too undid the snap on her denims, but she had to use two fingers, since her thumb couldn't steady itself on the snap.
"Shall we play Simon Says?" Sade asked. "Oui?"
Again the decision had to be made consciously.
"Yeah," she answered.
"Simon says..." Sade slipped the jeans down over his hips and let them drop to his ankles before stepping out of them.
This is not Joey, she thought, staring at the ampleness of Sade's erection.
"Are we still playing the game, ma chère?"
This isn't a game, she thought. This is the real thing. A true man and not a boy.
She rued the baby fat clinging to her hips and belly. But if she let the moment pass, he might not give her another opportunity.
She squeezed out of her tight denim cutoffs and pulled her thongs off with the shorts.
"Come here, ma chère."
He did not use the French word ici. Instead he spoke in clear English. She had to give herself; he would not take unless offered.
Slowly she moved closer, feeling sweat form under her armpits, smelling the odor of her sex, even stronger now.
"Touch me." He spoke the words softly, but with a firmness she dared not ignore.
She reached out to touch his chest, and he shook his head. Her hand dropped down to his erection, and it quivered in her hand.
Sade and she lowered their bodies onto the floor.
"Ma petite fille, taste me."
She heard demand mixed with patience.
Her free hand felt the down on his chest. Silky.
He placed his hand atop her head and gently pressed down until her mouth was even with his penis. Again he whispered.
"Taste me."
Her lips parted, and she filled her mouth with the breadth of his passion.
Chapter 37
Slow, Sade reminded himself. The young dove would flee if she realized the extent of his passion. As her head bobbed, her butt rose high. Such a morsel, he thought. An ass that could take the sting of a thousand lashes. An ass that could be made to take the fullness of his cock.
Sade lay back on the wood floor and vowed to control his needs. A step at a time, he told himself. To beat or draw blood now would rob him of the future delights that he had planned. Let the young one feel that she is in charge now. Later he would have his turn. Eager to prove herself, she would gladly meet all his demands, he knew.
Sade reached down and drew her body up against his. He noticed the pulsing in her neck. Not yet, he reminded himself. He would feast on her in degrees until she submitted to his every command. Her need for him would grow in proportion to the confidence she had in her skill.
His hand felt the excessive wetness between her legs. The probing of two of his fingers revealed the heat inside her. Her body moved without her control. Instead her flesh fed on primal concupiscence.
He pushed her shoulders back and grabbed hold of her thighs, setting her astride his groin, his cock pressed against the smoothness of her slightly rounded tummy.
Cecelia raised her body and spread herself apart with one hand while guiding his cock with the other.
Little by little he slipped inside her. Her desire to fully take him in overcame the moment of pain that flashed on her face.
Sade restrained himself for a few seconds, allowing her body to adjust to the forced expansion. Cecelia began moving first. He allowed her to pace the movement. She must think she wields some of the power, he thought, until I show her the inevitable truth. Her body is mine. Her will has been broken.
She moved faster, the pulse in her neck more pronounced, making him remember the taste of blood. Ah, to see rouge blood stain her neck.
Her breaths came in pants, and he heard her mewl when he touched her clitoris.
Control. He had never given up the control. He would only lend the control to her so that she would have none of her own left.
Chapter 38
Sade dropped Cecelia off where he had picked her up. The sex had been good, and under his tutelage he knew she would get better. His blood hunger overcame his senses as he sped ninety miles an hour down the deserted road.
He needed to feed. Some needed to light a cigarette; he needed the metallic taste of blood.
He knew shanties existed down the road, hovels in which families tried to survive, scared families that avoided authority. They settled disputes themselves. They educated their own, and births hardly ever got recorded.
He had taken a few lives there. Children were the least likely to be missed, since a child's death meant one less mouth to feed.
The dirt road leading to the shanties was nearby. Sade slowed to catch his turnoff.
A crumbling fence and a useless mailbox marked the spot. He had been told that originally a large, mostly inbred family had lived in a rambling Victorian house on this land. The house burned down one summer evening and the family scattered, although most town people believed that the residents of shanty town were the progeny of that old family.
The scent of beans and ham cooking reached Sade. Not a meal he would enjoy, but he understood that the people here were able to grow their own beans and successfully raise pigs. Quite a limited diet, he thought.
He chuckled. And what would the shanty people think of his diet? There were vampires that only drank blood, never touched the food meant to fatten their prey.
Before seeing the shanties, Sade pulled to the side of the road. From here he would go by foot.
One child would not be sufficient to sate his sexually charged appetite. The elderly sat around in groups waiting to be plucked by death, but not by Sade. His blood needed to be refreshed, rejuvenated.
The sudden barking of a dog reminded Sade of how fond these people were of their pets. A cross between a Saint Bernard and a German shepherd approached him. One of the dog's eyes was clouded over, the other seriously drooped. However, the dog's sense of smell still allowed him to locate trespassers. The dog's gimpy back leg slowed him down considerably.
"Go home," Sade commanded.
The dog walked up to Sade and sat. His coat was matted and his teeth weren't all present, but his tail worked enthusiastically in his greeting of Sade.
"Great chien de garde."
The dog whimpered and lay down at Sade's feet.
"Guilt trips won't work with moi."
When Sade attempted to move on, the dog followed.
"Chien, I cannot have you following me."
The dog again whimpered and lay at Sade's feet.
Sade heard a sound. A crunching of leaves. Feminine pheromone came swirling in the air around him, and the precious smell of blood enfolded his senses completely. He drew back beneath an old tree and waited. The dog stood and stared at Sade like a bloodhound directing the hunter toward the kill.
A lissome girl of twenty stepped into view.
"There you are, Dog. What are you doing out here?" The girl approached the dog and ruffled his dirty coat of fur. "Come on back before you get lost. Johnny won't sleep unless he's cuddled up next to you."
The dog never moved. The girl nudged him with her knee, and the dog sat down.
"Aw, please come back. I don't want to be standing out in the woods all night. And neither do you. Remember how you got that old droopy eye chasing rabbits in the dark? Thinking you could fit inside the hollowed-out tree like the rabbit? Bruising that face of yours so badly that we weren't sure whether it would be kinder to shoot you or patch you."
The dog steadfastly ignored her.
"What's the matter with you?"
The presence of the menstruating woman drove Sade's hunger to the brink of carelessness. His body stiffened to leap.
The dog growled.
"Is there some dumb animal in among those trees?" she asked the dog.
"If I chase it away, will you come home then?" The girl shook her head and tried to peer into the blackness of the woods.
Come to me, ma petite fille.
Sade could not make out the color of her eyes, but her features looked carved. Her braided black hair reached down to her narrow waist. Her small pert breasts jutted out against the knitted cotton dress. The sash she used around her waist appeared bleached and old. Her legs and feet were bare.
"I don't see anything, Dog." Again she attempted to get the dog to move. This time the dog stood and moved closer to the trees where Sade hid. The girl followed, passing by the dog and determinedly heading for the woods.
The sexual energy and menstrual blood turned Sade into a quivering shadow.
"Is someone there?" she asked.
Sade withdrew further into the shades surrounding him.
The girl stopped and called a name. A name that Sade did not catch. She called several other names, and Sade's mind calculated the leap he would need to make to capture her.
The girl turned toward the dog.
"What do you have me doing? Making a fool of myself?"
The dog growled in reply.
"What the hell is bothering you?" With an exasperated sigh she turned back to the woods and walked into the shadows.
The dog barked once before he fell silent, a matted twisted jumble of fur and flesh.
Sade sated his sexual hunger. This time he felt the complete release of thirst quenched and desire punctuated by orgasm.
"But no one opens his arms to the guilty person.... People blush to be in his presence, are embarrassed to offer him their tears, as though terrified of contagion; he is banished from every heart: pride impels us to heap abuse upon him whom we ought to succor out of a feeling of humanity."
Ernestine
by the
Marquis de Sade
Chapter 39
Marie wrapped the collar around her neck and tightened the buckle. Each day she would perform this ritual until he came. He would inevitably, driven either by the suspicion that she had something to do with his father's condition or simply to direct his wrath at someone. And she would be here waiting, hungry, and willing.
Before noon Wil did show, his hair greasy and disheveled. His dark eyes had no glow. Shadows darkened the puffy bags under his eyes. His stale breath soured the air around him, and his body's stench revealed all the fear, pain, and anger that he had so recently experienced.
"I knew it had to be you the instant I found him."
"Wil, it sounds more like a crazed dog than any human. From what you're telling me, it sounds like your father was mauled. Perhaps some beast. A wild cat. A wolf."
"They don't exist around here."
"The gory details you've told me certainly indicate to me that it had to be something from the wild that did this to your father."
Wil let his body drop onto the settee.
"He can never get better. He's permanently a... vegetable."
"Do they know how much he understands?"
"He's still unconscious, but hell, his brain was dripping out of his head onto the ground when I found him." Wil steadied his elbows on his knees and rested his face in his hands.
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