Slap, slap.
Again the stinging pain and consequent pleasure skittered through her nerves.
“Oh fuck this!” he mumbled as he pulled out of her.
Maggie was panting, she wanted more. “What’s wrong? Come on, come on.”
She groaned as he pulled the plug from within her. The fullness in her was now empty. Maggie tried to catch her breath. Her wrists ached, her eyes were burning from the sweat in the blindfold and she was sore.
He again played with her pussy. His fingers wetted by her juices. She was so turned-on. The waiting to see what came next ate at her. She squirmed as he took his finger from her pussy then swirled it around her sensitive ass.
“Damn, I’d like to fuck your sweet ass. It looks so hot.” A loud slap echoed in the room and stung Maggie’s reddened butt. She shook and gasped from the growing excitement. This really turned her on and she wanted to feel him again.
His hands caressed around her inner thighs and he stroked her pussy and the opening of her anus. Her entire region was engorged and sensitive to his every touch.
“Hmmm, better use a lot of lube here because you have me so hard. You make me want to just take what I want.”
She felt a warm liquid seep down the crack of her ass. He rubbed it around her anus and slid his fingertips into her. The feelings made her shudder and the urge to close her legs crept through Maggie’s body.
She felt the head of his cock push against her anus and slide out. His hands grasped her ass, spreading her cheeks apart, and he again pushed the head of his cock into the opening. He slowly slid just the tip into her ass, very carefully.
Maggie’s mind went numb and her body tensed as he pushed inch by inch into her. She had to adjust to the stretching inside her. Butt plugs and small anal toys hadn’t totally prepared her for the pressure and fullness she felt inside, but she was at the point of climax from the intensity of the growing arousal that had been building inside.
She panted and almost wept as he filled her and stopped. She heard him breathe in deeply and sigh. His body pressed against her, his hands clenched her waist and slid to down to her ass.
“Damn, I was right. You are so fucking tight. You feel incredible.”
His words only added to her excitement. She longed to be taken and used as a sexual being by a powerful man. Her face pushed into a pillow and her desire to scream muffled.
The excessive amounts of lube eased the friction of him pulling back and then slowly pushing back into her. She arched her ass as far as she could to ease the rhythmic motion. Maggie was about to burst.
He groaned and plunged his cock into her ass, causing streams of juices to flow down her inner thighs as she came again. The explosive shockwaves of surprise and excitement overwhelmed her. His massive torso lifted her from the bed and he grunted as he fucked her like an animal.
Her body was shaking and weak, her mind spinning like a top. With a deep plunge and a hard squeeze of her hips she felt the throb and release. She shuddered and moaned, his seed spilling within her.
They both collapsed in a heap. His weight forced Maggie into the bed. His body was hot and slick against her back. He pulled his cock free from her ass and Maggie felt him loosen the ties around her wrists then pulled the blindfold free from over her eyes.
His hot breath blew against her neck as he spoke. “As much as you like control, sometimes relinquishing it in bed can set you free.”
A smile spread across Maggie’s face. He was right. “I don’t know where you came from or why you chose me, but thank you.”
“I am seeking a woman who’s lost, someone who’s given up. You definitely do not fit that description.” He got up off the bed, his limp cock dangling from his body.
Maggie looked at him, her vision adjusting to the light, and smiled. “All I know is you’ve given me something to remember—always. This side of me hasn’t felt so free in years, in fact I haven’t felt like this with any man.”
She lay sprawled across the bed, her nude body moist with perspiration. He raised his eyebrow and licked his lips as she shifted a little. “Damn, you are so fucking hot.”
Maggie grinned wickedly and snuggled into the rumpled sheets and blankets. “You know just what to say to make a woman feel good.”
Chapter Five
He sat in the smoky bar feeling slightly defeated. Finding a host for the lost soul was beginning to feel like a lost cause. He had met some wonderfully sensual women who satisfied his primal urges, but his hope in seeing his way to finding peace again was waning.
He took a sip from the water in front of him, and as he looked at the glass, it began to frost over in his fingers. The hair on the back of his neck bristled, his blood grew cold and a feeling of darkness crept through him. The women around his table were giggling and in a good mood, but he couldn’t shake the presence of something ominous and sad near him.
He looked for Tasha, needing to find where she was. His eyes scanned the room and at last he saw her leaning on the end of the bar, talking to a hunched figure.
He tried to get a look at the person she was talking to. The woman pulled a hood back, revealing locks of long, tangled blonde hair. She was talking, but something around her was dark, like a cloud of despair.
For some unknown reason he couldn’t stop staring at her. She was a small woman. He watched as Tasha handed her a bowl of something and a glass of what looked like water. He had to find out who she was. There was something wrong with her being here, a disruption of some sort that disturbed him.
He rose and walked to the bar. Tasha was serving drinks and he motioned to her.
“I’ve been thinking about a few other people I know who might be the woman you’re looking for.”
He grabbed her arm and looked into her eyes.
“Can’t wait another hour, huh?” She was flirting, but quickly picked up on his concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Who’s that woman?” He pointed to the figure at the other end of the bar.
“That’s Iris. Poor thing, she’s a mess. She comes in here sometimes and I give her some soup or whatever we have in the break room out back. She is such a sad woman with some real bad stuff in her life.” Tasha paused, shaking her head. “She lost everything. Her boyfriend Marcus was shot and killed right in front of her, died in her arms. He was the only person she had left after her mother passed away—no family—just totally alone.”
“What happened to her mother?”
“Iris spent the better part of a year watching her succumb to dementia. It tore her apart. She told me about it one night. Iris was taking a bunch of anti-depressants to just cope with her own depression. But it all changed when she met Marcus.” Tasha looked up at Iris and sighed.
“There’s something wrong. I don’t know what. I can’t get into her head.”
“Honey, there’s nothing there. She’s a lost soul. Hit rock bottom. She lives wherever she can around here but won’t beg or take help. Too proud or something. I give her food and stuff, but she refused the money I tried to give her. She said she’d work for it and cleans up some nights when it’s late or the midnight cleaning kid calls in sick.”
Iris looked up from her soup and stared at him. Her eyes were empty, but he could hear the whimper of her soul as it cried out to someone who was no longer on this plane of existence.
He sat, locked in a trance and he started to shudder. This wasn’t the kind of connection he usually had with women. His blood froze and a tear stung his eye. This feeling hadn’t hit him since that day. The day he lost Kelly.
“Hey.” Tasha shook his arm.
Tearing his gaze away, he looked back at Tasha. “I have to go.”
As Tasha reached for his shoulder, he vanished before her eyes.
“Holy shit. What happened?” She turned around and Iris was gone too.
*~~*~~*
Iris sat motionless. The dim light from the end table shone onto her as she rested alone on the tattered couch beneath a well-worn blanke
t, a cracked glass of water next to her with a lipstick stain on the rim.
Finally, she stood and walked slowly to the bathroom. The water had been running and steam filled the cold space. She had used the last of her money to pay for a week in this shit-hole room. The week was up tomorrow.
But tomorrow wouldn’t matter.
By then everything would be over. The painful memories, the constant inner struggles, the incessant sobbing in her head. The rippling sound of the water filled the little room as she turned the faucets off. Iris slowly tugged her robe open and let it fall to the floor. She unfastened her bra and tossed it to the side of the small clothes hamper. Her panties fell to her ankles and she kicked them away.
When she turned from the small sink, she caught her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Her eyes filled with tears because the once young woman filled with hope, dreams and a bright future wasn’t what she saw anymore.
Her life had become meaningless. Filled with drugs to help keep her sane in a world that had become a nightmare. She’d had to watch as her vibrant mother lost herself in dementia, the whiplash changes from woman to little girl, from caring mother to vicious harridan. Iris had done the best she could, keeping her mother home instead of a facility. In the end it was all for nothing. Her funeral costs had been the least of the accumulated expenses. Watching as her family home was auctioned off had just about killed her. Iris kept taking the anti-depressants but could still feel herself turning inward, away from everything and everyone around her. She would use a razor to cut herself to try to force herself to feel something, anything.
Marcus had changed all that. He gave her a reason to believe again, a reason to step from the cell within her mind she had created for herself. He helped her through the depression, the drugs and the self-abuse. He was her white knight. But even that shred of happiness was ripped from her heart as she had to watch in agony as he died in her arms. Nobody should have to go through that helpless torment alone. It broke her fragile spirit and left only the tattered remnants.
She picked up the straight-edged razor, her old friend, on the sink and walked, still crying, and listened to the water as it dripped like a heartbeat into the tub. Stepping over the rim, she sat, letting the heat engulf her body. The bath felt cleansing. She submerged herself up to her neck. The silence surrounded her. In a way she thought this was what God would feel like if he held her. She would be wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. If only He could forgive her for what she was about to do. A cardinal sin, but she thought it was her only answer to be back with Marcus again.
Iris let her head fall back, her hair hanging loose and dripping from the edge of the tub.
She sobbed and couldn’t bear the weight and constant abuse of her frayed soul. She didn’t want to go on, falling farther and farther into the bottomless pit, or longing so badly for the person who had made her feel whole again. Her heart was hollow and empty. Nothing eased the grief she felt. It was weighing on her, crushing her.
With a quick shot of pain she slit up her forearm. Her eyes squinted from the initial shock then she switched hands and cut the other side, blood streaming down her pale forearm. She threw the razor from the tub and lay back in the water. To Iris, this was the only way to get her love back and be with him again.
*~~*~~*
The Dark Lord materialized in the dingy hotel. Somehow he knew it was here that he needed to be. He looked around, seeing the light from the bathroom under the half-closed door.
There was an eerie silence. He became hesitant as he approached the room. Pushing gently on the door, he sensed a darkened aura. The cloud of steam dissipated slightly with the door now wide open.
He scanned the room, seeing a figure in the bathtub. It was her—Iris. A red cloud filled the water surrounding her and her skin was frighteningly pale. The black smears of makeup under her eyes showed she had been crying. The open wounds above her wrists pulsed slowly as the life-blood drained from her body.
Her head leaned to the side and he looked into the hollowness of her eyes as she slowly weakened. Sadness filled his heart as he stared back at her.
He stepped into the pool of water and blood. It spilled out, splashing across the floor beside the tub. Reaching down he pulled her limp body to his chest. She was so frail that he was afraid he’d hurt her more than the pain she was already feeling. He felt her heart, still beating, but weak and slow.
“Are you an angel?”
“No, but I can help you.”
“Just let me die. I can’t go on. I can’t…” She swallowed, her heart slowing as she spoke in a whisper.
He held her and thoughts streamed through his mind as emotions rushed to his immortal heart.
“I too have lost someone, someone who meant more to me than life itself.”
The memories of Kelly overwhelmed him. He couldn’t find his voice so he closed his eyes and spoke to her without moving his lips. “If you want to let go, I will take you away from this pain. You’ll feel no more hurt, no regret, no loss. But you can help someone who was stripped of life too early.”
He stroked the wet strands of her hair and continued.
“She is a lost soul. She wants to come back and live again. You can help her, Iris, you can save her and in a way, save yourself.”
Iris’s eyes filled with thin tears that streamed along her cheeks. “Please, I miss Marcus so much…” Her voice grew silent as she weakened.
Seeing a woman surrender and seek death made him ache inside. It released the sadness he’d buried inside him and the agony coursed through his veins. He trembled with anger—not at Iris for wanting to let go—but at the cruelty of Fate for robbing him of Kelly.
He’d had to go on. Iris’s life had crushed her and left her a shattered shell, a soul with no more to give, ready to make the ultimate sacrifice and end the pain. She thought it was justified. But it wasn’t. The room began to shake as his powers swelled within him. He was a being who seldom released his emotions or betrayed his agony. However, in this moment, holding this fading life—he was losing control.
Light spilled into the bathroom and a figure appeared. Illuminated and radiant, it floated above the reddened water spreading across the tile floor. She was like an angel—it was the lost soul.
Iris looked to the figure, and for a moment Pilan saw her smile before she closed her eyes, drifting away. A mixture of sadness and compassion filled his heart. He was helping one soul yet dismayed at another surrendering to death.
Lowering his head, he began to chant the words that he’d been taught eons before, and the light in the room became almost blinding.
He reached his hand out to the lost soul as he held his other arm around Iris’s limp body. “You have a chance to begin again. Most people don’t get a second chance. Iris is willingly giving this to you.”
In this state of strange perception, he could finally see the lost soul.
He looked into her eyes—and trembled with the recognition that swept over him like a raging wave. “Kelly?”
All the anguish from his sorrow burst free within him. Once again, as he did before, he had to sacrifice the one thing he loved. He knew without question that after the soul transferred to Iris’s body, all its memories of a previous life would be gone. He wouldn’t be able to find “his” Kelly again.
But Kelly’s soul would live again in the physical form of Iris, with no memory of what they had shared or the pain Iris had carried. He had been forced to watch Kelly die once, and now, for the second time, he would have to let her go. She would forever be lost to him; her soul reborn in Iris’s body. The woman he’d known and loved as Kelly would cease to exist anymore. The lost soul would find a new life.
He wanted to scream in agony, to rant against the universe for tearing him apart. He wanted to claim Kelly’s soul, to take it into his own body, to feel once again the overwhelming love they’d shared.
But he didn’t, because he had to finish what he’d begun.
He began chanting again until the light was a brilliant star capturing the three beings. Iris’s soul rose from its lifeless shell and wrapped around the Dark Lord, holding on to him. Her nude form was glowing and transparent. He let go of the lost soul’s hand and stood in the tub with Iris’s soul clinging to him.
Pilan became dizzy and weak as agony shot through him. Struggling to stay upright, he began to weep. He wrapped his arms around Iris’s soul and slowly vanished.
The lost soul floated above the tub, looking down at the water and the soulless body of Iris. Spreading her arms wide, she let out a deafening scream and dropped into the tub.
Gasping and coughing, Iris rose naked from the water. She looked around, confused and shaking as if in a state of shock. The water was clean and warm. She looked at her hands as she brought them to her face, touching it carefully as if it were a new experience.
She found herself trembling and her thoughts were scattered and disoriented. It was bewildering and she couldn’t remember what had happened or why she was in such a state.
Chapter Six
Tasha jumped when she went into the storeroom. “Dammit, I hate when you do that!” She hit him on the chest. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in about two weeks.”
He smiled and pulled his hair back from his face. “You know why I’m here.”
“Gotta go, huh? It figures. All those nights of incredifucks and you leave me. I’m still walking funny from the last night we were together. You do have a way of spoiling a woman for regular men. Not only do they have a cock that’s diminutive in comparison, but you do that thing with your mind.” She rolled her eyes and took his hand.
“You will make some man incredibly happy.” He paused.
“Oh, blah, blah, blah. Will I see you again?”
“I don’t know. I have something for you. A thank you for your help.”
Desires of the Soul Page 4