I would have to ponder these things later, when I was alone with my sewing. Flanked by my two self-pro-claimed protectors, I strolled towards parallel rows of vines that lined the terrain like the spokes of a wheel. Even from this distance I saw bunches of plump red grapes glistening in the dew, and noted occasional brown-clad figures filling oblong baskets with the harvest.
‘To our left, where the trees bearing our apples, pears and cherries give way to the grapevines, you’ll see our apiary,’ Ahmad remarked, gesturing elegantly towards rows of stacked white boxes. ‘The bees, of course, play an important part in our production. Not only do they pollinate our fruit blossoms, but they provide honey for our cakes and table use, and wax for our candles.’
In the sunlight, tiny flying specks drifted to and from the hives. Insects with stingers weren’t my favourite creatures, so I was hoping our stroll didn’t take us much closer to them. Beside me, Ahmad chuckled.
‘You stiffen,’ he said in that foreign voice. ‘And you’re wise to behave cautiously in their presence, for they’re easily aroused by those they perceive as intruders.’
‘Most beekeepers wear mesh around their heads, and heavy gloves, while carrying a smoking rag to sedate the bees,’ Brother Christy added. ‘But Ahmad is so attuned to them, and they to him, that he gathers their combs of honey without wearing any protective gear at all.’
‘Without wearing anything,’ the darker man amended.
Despite their reassurances, the image of Ahmad working these hives naked made me shudder. I turned my attention to the vineyard again, hoping to direct us to a tamer, more pleasant subject; trying not to picture bees buzzing around the ringed erection that still stuck out of this man’s thigh-length wrap-around pants, or around the nipples that glistened like pink beads on his brown chest.
It occurred to me that Ahmad and Brother Christy might expect something in return for keeping me, their sacred vessel, out of harm’s way — just as Father Luc, Mrs Goodin and Sybil demanded their due. But I hesitated to raise this subject. I had seen and heard enough this morning to keep me pondering my discoveries for quite some time. Just as I was wondering about repayment, however, the shaman-like man beside me cocked his head, as though listening closely to my unspoken thoughts.
‘You are thinking my guidance comes with a price,’ he said in that faraway whisper. He continued to walk me around the shade-dappled grounds, back to a grove of apple trees encircled by an outcropping of rocks. It resembled some sort of ceremonial area, because the trees grew in a semicircle around a grassy clearing.
Ahmad plucked a huge red apple from the nearest tree, polished it against his hip, and handed it to me. ‘You recall, of course, the story of Eve and the apple? The debt she incurred for eating of the Tree of Knowledge?’
‘Oh, yes,’ I murmured, almost afraid of what this apple might symbolise. It was the largest, most perfectly beautiful fruit I’d ever seen, and I had an undeniable urge to bite into it. ‘Mankind has borne the burden of her sin ever since. She and Adam were suddenly aware they were naked, and that they had reason to hide and feel shame.’
He closed his eyes, his ruby twinkling as he bowed to my reply. ‘Their knowledge required repayment, just as everyone’s choices have consequences. Here at Heaven’s Gate, things are no different. We acknowledge that we all fall short of our intended glory — but without our sins, we wouldn’t require redemption, would we? Since grace is ours for the asking, we believe in sinning boldly, and we trust a fitting afterlife will be ours, as well.’
I could see my widened eyes reflected in the apple’s shine. Ahmad’s theology struck me as quite radical, compared to my father’s, yet I could argue with nothing the enigmatic man said. I looked up at him, swallowing hard. ‘What are you saying? What should this mean to me?’
He and Brother Christy smiled indulgently and ushered me towards the distant monastery. ‘The sooner you accept our ways, Mary Grace, the sooner you will find your peace. From that self-acknowledgement will come your willingness to give back to our little community, to repay those who have helped you become the woman you were created to be.’
‘It will feel quite natural to you, once you attain that spiritual state Ahmad speaks of,’ Brother Christy continued. ‘From what I’ve observed, you’re a lover of beauty and a seeker of truth. Giving and compassionate by nature. We will all rejoice in your inner epiphany. We await it…quite eagerly.’
Something in the monk’s voice belied a darker message I couldn’t yet decipher. In my confusion, I clutched the apple. We were approaching the grounds around the abbey, which meant I would soon face Father Luc again. An unpleasant prospect, after the morning I’d spent enjoying the outdoors while witnessing so much that piqued my curiosity.
Again, Ahmad sensed my mood. Pulling me gently into an embrace, he murmured, ‘We will meet again soon, Mary Grace, for it is my calling to instruct you. To enlighten you.’
How should I respond? This man’s cock was prodding my midsection while his hand wandered down my backside to tease the crease between its cheeks. Brother Christy looked on benignly, and then glanced towards the abbey.
‘I’ll find you a chair,’ he said, ‘and I’ll tell Father Luc to expect you back after the noon meal. This will allow you about half an hour with Ahmad, to further explore the morning’s revelations.’
The monk dismissed himself with an amiable smile, leaving me to wonder what might happen next. On the one hand I feared Father Luc’s reprisal for staying away from my work so long, and on the other I allowed that as a newcomer, I had every right to become acquainted with the grounds and the people I’d be living among for the next few months. Ahmad had taken my face between his hands and was compelling me to listen, to open myself to the mysteries behind those arresting umber eyes.
‘Come, let us kneel together,’ he whispered, guiding me towards what looked like an altar — a large, smooth rock surrounded by tall bushes that flowered in magenta and pink. ‘It is good to humble ourselves, to separate from others as we ponder the opportunities afforded us in this abundant life.’
We entered the enclosure, and when he fell to his knees facing the boulder, I followed his example. Ahmad took the apple from me, placing it above us, on the stone. ‘A thank offering,’ he explained. ‘A worthy return from the harvest, as we offer ourselves, as well.’
I couldn’t dispute this offering, or my need for meditation. I sensed this exotic man would instruct me further, and followed his example of bending low over my legs so my palms pressed the grass and my forehead rested on my hands. The rustling of the flowers and an occasional bird call were the only sounds around us, while the breeze riffled my tunic. I hadn’t felt this quiet, this peaceful, since I’d arrived at the monastery.
‘Be still, and accept the knowledge that is mine to impart,’ Ahmad’s voice lulled me. ‘This position of humility opens us to many wonderful possibilities.’
My tunic was eased up over my back, by hands that then followed the curve of my spine to fondle my bottom. As Ahmad’s fingers grazed the crevice there and then slid forward to stroke my bush, I sucked in my breath.
‘Let go of your doubts, my prized pupil,’ the man behind me intoned. ‘Let your body respond to my teaching, for to reject such a gift would be not only selfish but foolish, in light of all I have to offer you.’
I was being given the chance to thank Ahmad for his kindness, yet I balked. The erection I’d been trying not to stare at was now stroking me like a thick finger, inching down to rub against a hole I didn’t intend to open for anyone. ‘I — I’ve promised myself to Hyde!’ I protested. ‘I assured him of my love and faithfulness, yet everywhere I turn people mock my intentions.’
‘All the better reason to learn from Ahmad, who will enhance your present understanding of pleasure while honouring your promise to a fine man.’
His fingers found the cleft of my sex, making me gasp with the intense sensation — and making me immediately wet. It was embarrassing how quickly I respond
ed to the touch of this charismatic man, yet I’d been drawn in since the moment he took my hand in greeting.
‘Ah, that’s better,’ he crooned. ‘I shall prepare you for what I sense is a new experience, Mary Grace. Be still, and accept the sincere giving of my gift.’
He was leaving me no room to refuse without appearing ungrateful. I nipped my lip as his purposeful fingers circled my clit and then dipped again into the cream that pooled beneath it. As I expected, his fingers slipped back to anoint the puckery portal that tightened instinctively against his intrusion.
Ahmad chuckled and continued spreading my moisture until the entire crevice between my legs was dripping. He then gripped the halves of my bottom and kneaded them in a hypnotic rhythm, letting the head of his cock tease forward and then back in my moisture. Sensations reeled within me when his ring rubbed my privates, yet part of me knew — and rebelled against — the penetration he sought.
‘Please, Ahmad,’ I whimpered, ‘please don’t ram yourself up my backside! I can’t even think about the pain!’
He responded by lifting my hips so quickly I couldn’t anticipate the wet tip of his tongue, which briefly licked behind my pussy and then circled the rim of my tightest hole. He plunged it into me, wiggling its length against inner walls that spasmed in surprise. I cried out, but it only inspired him to insert his tongue further than I believed possible. The passageway felt full and curiously pressured, and when I realised he wasn’t hurting me, I relaxed.
Ahmad responded with a sensual moan that reverberated up my spine. A furtive fingertip slipped into my slit and I began to follow its rhythm, driven almost helplessly towards a mounting tightness that promised climax. I hovered awkwardly, half-standing, balancing myself by placing my hands against the boulder in front of us, at the command of an amazingly adroit tongue and finger.
And then, as my need increased to a thick, churning demand, Ahmad slipped a finger in where his tongue had been. He began slowly, working a knuckle at a time with several moments of excruciating pleasure-pain between his moves.
‘You do well, my perfect pearl,’ he whispered, kissing my thighs to incite yet another riot of sensations. ‘You will soon be ready to receive me. Where most men are thick and forceful, you will find me slim and resilient, ever mindful of your comfort. Attentive to your needs and deepest desires.’
I let out a long sigh, still moving tentatively to avoid pain. Ahmad, the sly fox, inserted a second finger into my slit, which sent me quivering into a near-panic state. I felt suspended above the ground — above all I had experienced before — yet wary of the man’s next move. ‘Please, may I turn around?’ I pleaded. ‘I want you — so badly — inside me!’
‘There are times we must bend to another’s wishes,’ he replied quietly. ‘Times when we must learn while others instruct. Have you arrived at this level of acceptance, Mary Grace?’
I could only pant and drive my aching clit against the fist he manipulated me with. I closed my eyes for fear of losing myself, my very soul, to the man squatting behind me.
‘Very well,’ he murmured. Still thrusting two fingers deep inside my slit, he placed his knees behind mine and raised himself until the head of his shaft pressed against my other entrance. ‘Now let yourself fall back, Mary Grace, and let me catch you…catch you up in a rapture of fulfilment like you’ve —’
I screamed as his cock gained entry, lunging forward to escape what still repelled me. Ahmad fell backwards into the grass while I landed hard against the large stone. It scared me more than it hurt, but I’d reached my limit: I curled against the warm rock and sobbed. I cried for the loss of familiar places and pleasures, and for the man who’d offered to share them with me. I bemoaned my decision to come here among jaded strangers so eager to lead me down a dark path.
Behind me, I heard a disgruntled sigh. Hoping Ahmad would simply leave me to my misery, I kept my face in the crook of my arm, sniffling pitifully. The breeze tickled me between the legs, where I was still wet but had lost all interest in my climax. Then I felt hands on either side of my bare hips.
‘We will compromise,’ Ahmad stated impatiently. ‘For days I’ve awaited you, and I must have my release. Turn and face me, as you wanted to a moment ago.’
Something in his voice told me not to argue. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw a belligerent edge to Ahmad’s dark features, yet still those eyes and that voice held me in their thrall. ‘I — I’m sorry I disappointed you.’
‘Disappointment has its place. It provides room for improvement.’ His gaze settled on my sex, and one hand wrapped around the erection that now protruded even further out of the folds of his pants. ‘Lie back against the rock and spread yourself. By taking the pleasure I’ve saved up for you, I’ll show you what you have denied yourself. I’ll teach you to trust, to override your fears and open yourself to me.’
My impulse was to bolt. I’d explained that I wished to remain faithful to Hyde — a perfectly honourable request — and by allowing this man to enter me I was breaking my promises. Yet again he read my thoughts.
‘I won’t take you against your will,’ he muttered, his hand actions becoming faster. ‘And I won’t ask you to indulge me the way we found you with Fortune — it will teach you nothing, and I take no pleasure from gagging my partners with my extended length. They invariably bite down.’
I remained quiet, slowly turning to face him. His ebony features tightened, yet he remained in utmost control.
‘Lie back, offering yourself to me. Spread your legs wide.’
I felt like a sacrificial lamb, yet I sensed Ahmad intended no harm as he relieved himself in a way I had yet to understand. I took hold of that perfect apple so it wouldn’t fall to the ground, and then hoisted myself on to the rock as he’d instructed.
‘Wider,’ he breathed, his gaze so penetrating my slit felt the same tinglings he’d inspired before with his fingers. Again I felt swept into his power, free to choose yet wanting to do as he willed. Wanting to make up for the way I’d rejected his original attempt.
‘Touch yourself,’ Ahmad instructed, bucking forward and back as though he rode a cantankerous horse. ‘Slip your fingers between those rosy lips and show me your most secret, sacred place. Make me welcome, Mary Grace. Open yourself as you could not before, and let me come…let me come —’
With a guttural gasp, he aimed and kept pumping. The cream spurted out of him like streamers, thick and white and warm as it landed against my open hole. ‘Yes…yes…’ he moaned when I began to rub the slick substance against my skin. ‘Anoint yourself with me. Let me pour myself into you, my paroxysm of passion. Let me fill you until you can hold no more.’
His low voice urged me on until I was writhing in time with him. I thrust myself at him, opening further to receive yet another burst of his seemingly endless seed. This was indeed an unanticipated experience, for had someone told me I would find such a dousing erotic, I wouldn’t have believed it. When Ahmad at last sank to his knees, I flicked my fingers in and out and around, driving myself into the spirals that would bring release. My head lolled back and, knowing Ahmad watched with great interest, I thrust three fingers inside myself, still spreading his wetness over my engorged clit.
Just as I was arching upward, he grabbed my hands to pull me into a standing position. My eyes flew open, and so did my mouth. ‘You bastard! You spiteful —’
Ahmad laughed, swatting the hem of my tunic back to my knees. ‘Just as there is a lesson in unanswered prayer, we have much to learn from desires left unsatisfied,’ he crooned in that exotic accent. ‘When I see you again, we will resume our quest. Meanwhile, ponder what you’ve seen and heard and learned, my puckery persimmon.’
‘I am not your —’ I hurled the apple at him, aching all over from this latest lesson in frustration. At least Sybil had allowed me release, even if she turned it against me at bedtime.
But Ahmad nimbly snatched the apple from the air. His mystical aura had returned, marked by brown eyes that spar
kled with mirth. Stepping towards me, he bit smugly into the apple, spraying my face with its juice.
‘Knowledge is power,’ he said in a snake-like voice. ‘Pay its price, or be forever damned.’
Chapter Ten
Some Realities Revealed
I curled up on the couch that night, hoping to fall asleep before Sybil finished her kitchen duties. When she opened the cottage door, flicking her cigarette behind her, I was wide awake but didn’t greet her. The afternoon in Father Luc’s office had passed without any direct conflicts, although he seemed to consider my upholstered chair and worktable a challenge to his authority. I sat engrossed in my sewing, facing the window, so I could sort through the confusing events I’d seen during my tour. But I had reached no conclusions. That inner peace Ahmad kept referring to eluded me, chased away by images I didn’t fully understand.
My room-mate walked silently as a cat, so I felt rather than heard her presence at the end of the sofa. ‘Well, damn! I was hoping for another wrestling match tonight.’
‘Better find yourself a different partner, then.’ Through the slit of one eye I watched her cross her arms in the darkness, backlit by the moon.
‘But it’s you I want, Mary Grace. Someone as quick with a retort as I am. Someone who sees this place with fresh eyes.’ Her gaze seemed to penetrate my blanket.
‘Someone fresh, and soft, and so much lovelier than she realises.’
I sighed, curling inward. ‘Sorry to disappoint you — and you’re not the first I’ve done that to today. But take heart,’ I added ruefully. ‘There’s a place for disappointment. It gives us room to improve.’
Devil's Fire Page 11