Stigmata

by L M Adams

  “I need your help with the Bloodsucker,” I state my needs plainly.

  She sighs and kneels to untie my boots, “He’s insecure, that is all.”

  “No matter what I do, he does not find worth in himself and it has only gotten worse since we have been married… not better.”

  She gently shrugs her shoulder, “Marriage doesn’t fix problems… more often than not, it only exacerbates them.”

  “We have been married for exactly the same amount of time, yet you are an expert on the subject?” I raise an eyebrow.

  She chuckles, “No, but I understand love, and jealousy, and the motivations behind people’s desires better than you do… step.”

  I lift one foot and then the other as she slips my boots off.

  “Then help me to understand Jaevia… what am I doing wrong?”

  She sighs heavily and peels down my black cloth pants, I’d sweat through them training and they seem to cling to my flesh.

  “It is possible to do everything right and still not win, Luey. Emotions are complicated. They are neither right, nor wrong, they simply are. Right now Jack has a lot of emotions all warring within him. His feelings of inadequacy feeding his jealousy… his jealousy feeding the low self-esteem.”

  “Why is he jealous?”

  She stands and nudges me towards the water. I step down into the soothing bath and feel my muscles relax.

  “He has never seen you be warm and familiar with another man, Luey.”

  “Nassor?”

  She nods, “Nassor.”

  Confusion fills me, “I do not desire Nassor.” To be honest… the thought of being with him disgusts me. Nassor is my mother’s brother’s wife’s sister’s son. We are like… cousins. And even if we were not, Nassor is a man and he is not Capaneus, Capaneus is the beginning, end, and all to my interest in man-sex.

  I sigh, “He is being foolish.”

  “Yes, Luey, he is being foolish. But perhaps you should let him focus on this… problem.”

  “How do you mean, Wench?”

  She makes me turn around and sit on the low bench in the water as she kneels behind me and begins bathing me.

  “He needs to work through this on his own, we’ve done all that we can. If he comes to you and wants to talk about it with you, then yes, be open to that conversation; but don’t initiate it. Don’t stomp out there and declare his feelings foolish, don’t think that you can fix it with kink or even with love. Because you can’t… he has to fix this, he has to finally open his eyes and his heart to you. He has to decide what is worth clinging to, his father’s hatred or your love.”

  When I was a younger man, I would think those choices easy. But now older, having lived through terrible things, I know how easy it is to hate. It was easy for me to feed on my hate as I tortured those bones from Camp Haven, it was easy for me to burn off their cocks and skin them alive, easy for me to chain them up and abuse them every… single… night… it was easy to sleep after every single session. What was hard, was learning to love the lost sons, the cursed ones… the berserkers Quinn left behind. It was hard to embrace that love because hate was easier, hate was familiar, hate had become my friend.

  I do not wish to leave the Bloodsucker to his own devices, I wish to guide him, force him if I must, I wish to rip him away from the darkness he’s clung to for far too long.

  The Wench’s words go against all of my natural instincts. But perhaps she is right. Perhaps this is not a problem I can solve with my will alone. It is time for Capaneus to claim what he owns and to stop being so goddamn embarrassed over the fact that he wants it.

  I would understand if his hesitations with our relationship stemmed from inexperience, it is much the same with me. I had no intention of ever loving a man, making love to a man. But Capaneus came along and turned my world upside down. I have done my best to learn how to love him, to open my heart to different possibilities. Yet I feel he has not made this journey with me.

  He has a harder battle before him, this I know, and this is why I have been giving him every ounce of patience I can muster.

  Even with the pains and horrors I have known, they do not compare to my Capaneus’s life. I did not grow up with a stepfather molesting me as he seeded hatred into the ways I wanted to be loved. Capaneus has. His stepfather saw the bond that would grow between his stepson and the Bloodsucker’s first would-be lovers and that cold-hearted bastard set out to destroy it for power and out of spite. Now I am left with a broken husband and no obvious way to fix him.

  Jaevia washes me but does not rouse my lustier desires… on purpose anyway. To be around the Wench is to be in a constant state of arousal. I am not completely sure she has ever truly understood the effect she has on others.

  Before I can pull her into the bath, bend her over the edge and take her to… ‘pound town’, Capaneus comes into the bathing room to tell us first meal has been sent up for us and that we should be ready to leave in an hour.

  82

  Lucien

  Capaneus, being thoughtful, has set a small table and three chairs outside on the balcony so that we may enjoy the view. The city is awake now and the fishermen and tradesmen have their small boats out on the river. It’s easy to see the large planting fields across the river framed with the date palm trees. These lands are gorgeous, the kind of place a man makes a home for himself with the ones he loves.

  The food and drinks are already laid out on the table. The Bloodsucker always taking care of us, it is his way, yet I do not wish for him to believe that it is his worth.

  He looks good, strong, even without majic – he has a strength of will. Capaneus does not believe this, but I know this. I am not so sure I could have lived through what he’s lived with and still have such a good and giving heart.

  “They brought up breakfast, and Keyon brought your sword almost tripping over his own feet. The kid obviously has a bad case of hero worship going,” Capaneus holds out a chair for our wife.

  I grunt as I sit down, “I was much the same when I was that age.”

  The Wench laughs, “That would have been something to see.”

  “Oh, aye? So you could tease me about it?”

  Her eyes twinkle in the sunlight, “Yes.”

  She doesn’t even hide her disrespectful wishes. I huff and break off the loaf of bread. When the Bloodsucker sits, I notice his discomfort.

  “Still haven’t healed?”

  “I’m fine,” he grumbles low.

  Liar.

  “Then come here,” I set down my bread.

  “Master?”

  “You heard me.”

  He stands up and walks over to my side of the table. I reach behind him and squeeze his ass, he inhales sharply, I keep squeezing until he whimpers.

  “Please stop,” his voice shakes with pain.

  “This would not hurt if your flesh was healed, Capaneus.”

  “I lied,” he closes his eyes.

  “I know that you lied, and you know I have to punish you for it.”

  “Please inside, please don’t shame me in public view.”

  He had no problem lying to me in public view, but I relent.

  I huff letting him go, “Sit down and eat your breakfast.”

  “What are those?” The Wench points at the large eggs, distracting me from the Bloodsucker – who says they’re not in cahoots?

  “Ostrich eggs,” I touch the large metal plate in the center of the table, it warms to burning and I pick up one of the very large eggs. I take the small metal rod and crack the end open letting the inside pour onto the hot plate and add a pinch of salt.

  The Wench’s eyes go large. I have to agree; the large eggs are impressive.

  “Take the bread, pinch off a bit and dip into the egg.”

  She does as she’s told, Capaneus doesn’t, he’s stewing.

  “I said eat, Bloodsucker.”

  He does as he’s told but with an attitude. I guess today is going to be a hard day with him.

&nbs
p; The Wench, however, doesn’t disappoint. She’s throwing herself fully into the experience of being here with me. She wants to try everything, taste everything, see everything.

  “What’s this?” She points at the shallow dish of red pepper paste.

  “Harissa, pepper sauce, very spicy.”

  She dabs her pinky finger in it and sucks on it, her eyes go wide, watering, “Wow.”

  I chuckle and nod as I dip my bread in some of the sauce, “It is an… acquired taste.”

  Capaneus puts his pout to the side to try it and nods appreciatively, “This is why you like spicy food?”

  I grunt with a nod.

  “Okay, I can… I can learn how to cook more traditional foods… give you a bit of home when we go back.”

  Even with his attitude he becomes preoccupied with how to serve me… take care of me.

  “Thank you… for caring.”

  He frowns, “I care, Lucien… you know I care.”

  But I do not know, because I know you hate it here, and how can you love the man and hate where he comes from?

  I do not say this, because I do not know how to say this in a way he would understand. Instead, I tuck it away as I often do with my feelings. Hiding them was always easier than trying to find ways to make others understand me or trying to understand others.

  I pop a black olive in my mouth and sit back in my chair, “I told Henenu about the future and his death… he did not seem concerned.”

  “Really?” The Wench raises an eyebrow.

  I shrug, “It is our way, we accept death, it is a natural part of the journey.”

  “But the way he died…”

  “He believes there was purpose there, I do not know what.”

  She shakes her head, “There has to be a reason we’re here. If it’s not to save him… what is it?”

  “I would not know where to begin answering that, it is only good to be here.”

  She reaches over and pats my hand, “Okay, Luey.”

  “Eat,” I order them both and we finish breakfast, at least Jaevia and I do… Capaneus doesn’t eat enough, he seldom does.

  “You need to eat more, Capaneus.”

  “I’m done,” he says getting up.

  And I’m done nagging him, I’m done with this, he needs to eat more, and I don’t care if he’s crying while he does it. He wants to be difficult? Have this continuous attitude? Topping from the bottom? Fine, I’m happy to play these games with him. I take a plate and a portion of cut up meat. I stand and walk into the living area and set the plate to the floor.

  “Capaneus come here. Jaevia stay outside,” I call him into the living area.

  He looks at the plate and then back to me… oddly.

  “Pull down your pants, get on all fours, and finish your breakfast.”

  “Lucien,” he hisses.

  “Now!” I yell.

  “Fine!” He rages right back at me.

  He holds his defiant look as he strips completely naked and comes over to the plate, getting on all fours.

  I kneel behind him, as I thought, his flesh is colored deeply with bruises… his ass and thighs.

  “Eat,” I order him softly as I take his sack in hand.

  He shifts to pick up the food with his hand and I squeeze his sack lightly, “Do not test me, Capaneus.” I whisper low.

  “You are cruel,” he whispers back.

  “Aye, that I may be, but I shall not be a Master that does not see his slave cared for.”

  I squeeze his sack tighter, “Eat.”

  He lowers his head with a whimper and begins eating the meat off the plate.

  “You have to eat more without your majics, Capaneus, we will not argue over the matter. You will simply do as you are told. Now you can eat at the table, like a man, like my husband and lover… or you will eat like this, like a disobedient slave… the choice is yours.”

  “Yes, Master,” he whispers and goes back to finishing his breakfast with my hand gripping his sack.

  A damn shame what I have to go through! All trying to keep them safe and healthy! They’ll send me to an early grave if I let them.

  He finishes his meal without complaint, quickly and quietly.

  “I’m sorry, Capaneus.” I whisper before I squeeze his sack and begin pulling it and twisting.

  He lets out a low groan, “Scream for me baby.” I murmur low.

  “No,” he grits out between clenched teeth, I twist his flesh harder.

  “Scream!” I yell and his pride cracks for me… finally.

  He screams for me a beautiful sound.

  “There we are, now let us discuss your lie.”

  I take my other hand and squeeze the bruised flesh of his ass, “Have you healed?”

  “No Master,” he trembles.

  “Louder!”

  “No Master!”

  “You were being a naughty boy.”

  “Yes,” he whimpers.

  I yank his sack, and he pushes up to all fours to howl for me, “I’m a naughty boy!”

  “Say you’re sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, Master! Oh god please I’m sorry!” I do believe he means it.

  I let go, “Done, it’s done.”

  He falls to his side clutching his package as he cries. I pick up the plate and stand, “Would you like aftercare?”

  His eyes are squeezed tightly as he shakes his head no, he inhales sharply, “Can I suck you off?”

  “What?” I ask in shock.

  “Please, Lucien, let me say I’m sorry the right way.”

  I sigh, “I know that you are sorry, there is no…”

  “Please!”

  “Let him,” Jaevia whispers from the balcony and I sigh. I know I do not understand all of the sickness that drives them at times. I think I have taken things far enough, yet they wish to take things further.

  Perhaps Capaneus needs to say sorry in his own way so that he can move past this punishment? I do not know; I don’t understand many of the things that drive their hearts. But I will never deny them something I can give – they are my mates.

  “Very well,” I whisper.

  He’s quick to get to his knees and undo my pants. His mouth warm and wet as he tries to swallow as much of my cock as he can… crying all the while. His feelings of inadequacy beat through me, he needs to show me he’s good for something… even if it’s only sucking my cock.

  “Shh, Capaneus, quiet your heart,” I try to calm him.

  Ra knows I’ve never wanted him like this, all slave, no hint of the man I fell in love with. As the Wench says, I like difficult. I like being Master to creatures who are who they are, whose core, and soul won’t get swept away under my power.

  What happened to my Capaneus?

  What happened to the man that would punch me in the mouth and then get down to his knees to suckle me until I begged him to stop?

  What happened to the man who could tame the curse in me?

  Jaevia comes into the room to take the plate from my hand. I’m unsure of her intent until she kneels and takes the Bloodsucker’s cock in hand and begins stroking it… over the plate.

  “Come for me,” she whispers, he jerks immediately, groaning low, “Good boy,” she whispers encouraging him… “and again.”

  God that’s sexy, I groan and close my eyes, throwing back my head and enjoy the feel of his mouth on me. I hate that he’s sucking me for this reason, but I can’t deny how good it feels. Ra help me, they make me love the darkness, the filth, they make me love it.

  He twirls his tongue around the tip of my shaft, my sack tightens with appreciation as the pressure to erupt intensifies.

  “I’m going to come,” I moan low with pleasure.

  He grips my pants and forces himself down on my cock, “Yes, oh Ra, yes!” I peak when his fang cuts me, dumping my load into his throat.

  I feel him jerk against me, coming again himself.

  The Wench pets his hair, “There’s a good boy.”

  He takes his mou
th from me nodding, “Thank you.”

  “Come now,” she whispers and places the plate on the floor.

  He turns bending to it and begins cleaning his come from the plate, licking it up greedily as the Wench pets his hair.

  “Master forgives you, doesn’t he?” She looks up to me.

  “Of course,” I say gently, holding back tears of pleasure and sadness… it is confusing loving a man.

  A session of pain and degradation buys me a burst of contentment in the link between us, all from Capaneus. In his twisted heart… perhaps this makes sense.

  I take him to the bathroom to clean him up. The water is always fresh and warm, some majic I’m sure. I get undressed and step down in the pool with him.

  “I can clean myself up, you don’t have to…”

  “Let me serve,” I whisper quietly. I need after care, and he seldom gives it to me. Even as the taker, I crave closeness after hurting one of them, I need to know they love me still.

  “Imitating a child of Isis?”

  I shrug, “My mother was a giver.”

  He sighs, “Yeah, she was, wasn’t she?”

  I nod, “She would be proud to call you a son. To have a giver like her in the family.”

  He exhales, “That is a very nice thing to say.”

  “It is truth, hmm?” I sponge his soft bits, “She often wished for me to have a gentler heart, tend the gardens and the like.” I huff, “Once I snuck into her receiving room and took my father’s sword. Went out to her gardens and hacked at the plants… she boxed my ears.”

  He laughs.

  “They were demons sent from hell… in my imagination at least.”

  I nudge him into turning around so I can get his backside, being careful of his bruises.

  “You were a wild-child,” he laughs.

  “Aye, I was.”

  “Touch me there a little?” He’s a bit shy… or different in some way. He always is after a session, as if being hurt or being used gives him leave to put his insecurities to the side and enjoy a bit of living for the now.

  I wish this Capaneus, I wish this Capaneus without having to hurt him to get it. I wish my loving attentions would let this same man blossom. Instead, I only get consent to touch his rose after multiple sessions of pain and degradation when he knows I have no wish to have him this way.