Stigmata

by L M Adams

  “It’s easier for you to be vulnerable with him when I’m not around?”

  He nods, “I am sorry, Jae, it’s not…”

  I stand up, “You don’t need to explain. Your relationship with Lucien is just as important as ours and if you need time and space to fix it, I understand that.” I smile, “Nyrobi invited me to visit the chambers of Ishtar, to stay a few days… learn the traditional ways. I’d like that, so I can leave you boys to your own devices until the solstice.”

  “Thank you,” he whispers sadly, and I close the distance between us to give him a good hug and a better kiss.

  I feel his heartbreak on my tongue, and although I have tasted its flavor many times – I have never wished this fruit to be so bitter.

  The work it takes to maintain a polyamorous relationship is even more than I expected. Perhaps you could call what I had with Sheba poly; but we were only allowed to love her… there was no work – there was a whip, there was pain and lust to choke the free will right out of you.

  We’re not building that; I don’t want that. I’m sure I could use my power to make them desire one another, I’m sure I could make them be with one another whatever way I wished – but I’m not that kind of succubus, or at least I don’t want to be.

  Yet I don’t want to go back to what we had before, with the two of them taking turns with me, and keeping each other at an arm’s length. There was no harmony in that, just a silent war.

  I leave Jack and go to talk to Luey, being careful with my steps and my energy as I approach the patio.

  “Luey?” I call out gently as I step onto the patio, none of the torches are lit.

  I know he isn’t far; I can feel his energy… and it is chaotic.

  “Aye, Wench?” A voice more beastlike than man sounds from the dark corner of the patio. He’s almost fully blended in the plant life.

  “I want to go and stay with children of Ishtar until the Solstice, they invited me, and I want to learn more about them… is it okay?”

  “Come here with you then,” he grumbles low.

  I pad over to him, and he turns around to face me. Those golden red eyes glow in the darkness, swallowing up the light from the stars even.

  He holds out an arm and I let him fold me into his body. I can feel the light trembling running through him. I can’t tell if its anger, pain, need, or some horrid mix of it all.

  “Are you and Jack going to be okay without me?”

  “Aye, Wench, no harm shall come to him.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.”

  I sigh and pull back, reaching up to cup his fierce features softly.

  “Be gentle with him, hmm?”

  His hot breath blows across my flesh, puckering my arm in goosebumps.

  “And when will someone be gentle with me?”

  “Oh, Luey.”

  He kisses my forehead softly and pulls away from my comfort, turning his back on me, “Enjoy your stay, Wench.”

  I sigh and turn away, feeling like a complete shit. But Jack had asked, and I had promised. I have to trust he’ll figure out a way to make this up to Luey, because I don’t see how our love works without them loving one another.

  102

  Jack – The war for Lucien’s heart

  I help Jaevia gather a few things for her stay with the children of Ishtar. Clothes magically appeared in our chambers… a wild assortment of choices, perhaps to represent the many different cultures here. I help her pick a few items to put into a cloth bag.

  She’s only going to another wing of the palace, yet I almost ask her to stay. But that would only be cowardice on my part. Either I have what it takes to fix this with Lucien, or I don’t deserve the man.

  “Go slow, hmm?”

  I nod and she gives me a quick kiss before leaving the apartments.

  The place seems large and empty and… lonely. I feel like the boy who wanted to bring joy back to his village and needed the majic of fire to see it done.

  I love Lucien, I know that I do. My mistake was loving him the way I wanted to be loved and not the way he needed to be loved. The fault is with me, and only me. Since I can remember, I’ve been loved for power, influence, because of the level of abuse I can take. Even with Jaevia… our first night together she tore my soul in two, she’ll never find someone who can take it like me. Her succubus came to love me that night and then Jaevia’s heart followed. But I proved my worth to them in a currency of pain and now I find Lucien won’t even accept the same tender?

  How am I supposed to let Lucien love the man, when I don’t even know who the man is?

  What am I if not a masochist?

  Who am I if not a Blood Lord?

  Lucien wants to love the man trapped in the black obsidian, buried deeply in my psyche. He wants to love the man that was a slave to his father… sexua… sexually abused by his father?

  But there is no giving Lucien what he wants without confronting those issues I’ve spent decades upon decades ignoring and we’re far past me being able to fix that man. Some part of who I am now; he has to find a way to love, I just have to show him that there is merit in loving a masochist, that I can bring him happiness if he would just let me, that no one in any world could love the pain of his curse like I could.

  I have a worth; he just needs to see that.

  He just needs to step back and see what things I bring to the table and learn to ignore the things I can no longer offer. It can be enough; I can be enough for him.

  I’m not sure if it is foolishness or courage that makes me walk out onto that patio, when I know he is not stable, when I know he needs time before we talk.

  The truth is, confronting him is still easier than confronting myself. That mirror image is still too painful to bear.

  If I was a smart man, I’d let Lucien come to me. If I was a smart man, I’d throw myself at his feet and beg for forgiveness – but fortune favors the bold… and the dumb.

  The long white drapes parting the room from the outdoor patio are still, there is no wind – a herald of doom, or premonition perhaps. I’ve never known the night air to be so still, so quiet, not even the sound of crickets to break this eerie silence.

  My nose flairs as I search for a scent, but all I breathe in is the smell of Lucien, his power, his aura, his very being.

  None of the torches are lit on the patio, and the further I step away from the entrance to the apartments, the stickier and deeper the inky sky seems to get.

  The sound of my own heart pounds in my chest, reminding me that I am alive, perhaps outside the order of things, but still alive.

  “Leave me be, Capaneus,” comes the deep rumbling of a wild beast… or a vengeful god.

  Neither thing meant to walk amongst man. I keep moving forward, if he really wanted to be left alone – he would have left… he didn’t.

  “Can we talk…”

  Red eyes turn on me, catching fire to my soul. He roars, a deafening massive roar, enough to bring me up short and curdle the blood in my veins.

  “You have one chance to walk away Bloodsucker… take it.”

  He wants me to walk away, like hell I’m going to, he can’t get rid of me that easily. He promised me forever, I’m making claim to that promise if he likes it or not!

  “If I walk away, I’m going to beg the first man I come upon to go balls deep in my ass.”

  My declaration brings him up short, a look of confusion fills his fearsome features. “Wha… what did you just say to me?”

  I set my jaw, determined to see this foolish fucking plan through. Lucien Hari Ramzia will rape me tonight come hell or high water. Then I can fix this, then I will be free to find a way to let him love me.

  “If my husband won’t give me a good fucking… anyone will do. Now tell me to get out again. I fucking dare…”

  His hand is around my throat, lifting me up in the air as my feet kick wildly searching for the ground, before I can even finish the sentence.

  I grab
his wrist with both hands trying to relieve the weight so I can breathe. So much pressure is building in my head I feel like I’m going to pass out.

  His fist smashing into my face rocks my soul, I hear my jaw crack and watch the stars dance in my vision. He lets go and I fall to the hard stone of the patio like a rag doll.

  I cough and blood from my mouth spews out wildly, the next inhale burns my lungs with fire. Goddess help me, I wanted him to rape me not kill me.

  103

  Jack – watch what you wish for

  He straddles my chest, trapping my arms beside my body. His weight is pressing down on my chest when I’m already struggling to breathe.

  “Get your fucking pants off!” He rages at me as he undoes his own.

  His massive cock seems to erupt from the cloth of his black pants. Groaning low with pleasure he begins stroking it, inches from my face. I cry out, confused, dazed – I didn’t mean for it to be like this.

  “I said pants off!” He yells and open hand slaps me, rocking my world – shifting it completely off its fucking axis.

  Blood flies from my mouth again, my hands try to start pushing down my pants. He’ll kill me if I don’t get them off, I know he will.

  “You win,” he throws back his head, moaning with pleasure as he strokes himself. “Oh Ra, you win,” giving himself over to that darker nature I so craved to have, to take, to know.

  “Oh god, please,” I finally breathe out, both elated and terrified that I’m finally getting what I wanted… I wanted this… right?

  He leans over me and guides his cock to my bloody mouth, I open it without command, letting him slide between my lips. I lay paralyzed under his weight, his anger as he begins fucking my face, not letting me breathe. Treating me as nothing but a wet hole to put his cock into. I drown in the heat of his manhood and fall into the darkness of myself. Wishing I’d had the courage to let him be my light.

  I cough profusely when he pulls from my mouth. He moves down placing one hand flat on the ground on either side of my head, his mouth inches from my face, teeth bared with aggression.

  “It is too late for begging, now it is time for screaming.” He licks my cheek slowly, as if he’s… tasting me. Just curious to see what my skin flavored with blood tastes like. A quiet, dangerous rumbling from his chest tells me he likes it.

  He stands up in a blur of movement and grabs my right wrist tightly, wrenching my arm painfully as he drags me over to the large stone table. My pants come down baring my ass, scraping my skin on the rough stone patio.

  My head spins again as darkness threatens my consciousness.

  He drags me up to my feet and bends me over the hard slab slamming my head into the gray stone. I groan low. My vision glosses over as he drags the bowl of olives seeping in the olive oil towards him.

  “I’m going to ass fuck you into oblivion.”

  He twists my arm to my back, bending it awkwardly, I scream again for him.

  “You don’t deserve this!” I feel him rip off my wedding band.

  His hand slams down beside my head, leaving his ring there for me to stare at as he destroys me. He dips his hand in the olive oil and I feel him cover me and himself in it.

  I try to breathe, relax, as I feel him part me and enter my rose. The tip of him stretching me open. But that is the last bit of softness I get from him as he surges forward, unrelenting tearing my rose apart.

  True to his word, the time for begging is done, and so I scream, I scream for him as he begins pushing into my tightness. I can feel my flesh tearing and ripping, trying to make room for him, wanting to reject the invasion.

  He grabs me by the back of my neck, pressing my face painfully into the table – blood, and tears, and spit pools against my cheek.

  “Give me that bend!” He rams into me and my body convulses with pain.

  His fucking cock isn’t even all the way in, he can’t make it past the bend of my colon.

  “I…” I try to inhale, “I… can’t….” I cry out pitifully.

  “Then you will be punished.” He promises me darkly.

  I thought he was fucking me before; he shows me differently. My legs go weak with the pain. I can feel him beating against my guts, bruising my insides with his cock. He is relentless in his pursuit to ruin me. He grinds against the curve into my colon, punishing me for not allowing him to fuck my guts the way he wants.

  My heart and mind reach out for Vayrá so that I can commune with the blood ocean, give this pain purpose, so that I can suffer for my people and endure it all with grace. But for the first time, the comfort of their sin is not there to cradle the broken pieces of me.

  There is nothing but me, my shame, and my body being torn in two.

  He lets go of my arm and falls onto my back to grind into my broken body, he presses the blunt tip of his cock against the tightness of my sphincter that will not let him go further.

  The pain intensifies by a million and I cry out in a mindless plea for mercy as he grinds against it, refusing to give me a reprieve. He’s going to rip my fucking intestines.

  “Say it again, tell me you’re going to let another man fuck my rose,” his voice is deep, dangerous… not sounding like the Lucien I know at all… not really, he’s completely detached, uncaring. There’s not an ounce of pity for me.

  He pulls back and rams into me again holding tight, pressing against my bruised innards, making me belt out another high-pitched wail of pain. My legs give out, his body now the only thing holding me up against the table. The hard stone edge presses into my hips painfully as he pushes against me, inside of me, determined to stuff every inch of cock inside of my body if it will fit or not.

  “Say it again!” He slams his mighty fist on the table beside my head, the stone cracks…

  Fuck.

  “I’m going…” I cough, “… to let another man fuck your rose.”

  “That’s what I fucking thought you said,” he growls low and fucks me fast… hard… brutally until my lights go out.

  I pass out and wake up to him still destroying me – I wish for death. My spirit, mind, soul – my entire being is consumed with the feel of his invasion, there is no escaping it, no ability to think of something else. I am simply here, destroyed, unmade.

  He moans and slows down, “You don’t get to escape that easily.”

  I cry harder into the table and he moans with pleasure as he grinds into my bloody mess of ass again.

  “You’re my bitch now.” He growls low and I nod.

  “Say it.”

  “I’m your bitch.”

  “Again,” he moans.

  “I’m your bitch – I’m your bitch – I’m your bitch.”

  He shudders against me and groans low as he comes deep in me, marking his territory.

  “I think we are ready to discuss your behavior now, don’t you?”

  I nod my head, delirious with pain.

  “You do not threaten me with unfaithfulness again, do you? Not again, not ever again.”

  I shake my head no as I cry anew, my own heartache tearing me apart.

  “You trapped me in this miserable fucking marriage, we shall suffer it together.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “You’re my bitch now, yes?” He rubs my sweat soaked hair back as I nod.

  “Say it,” he demands again.

  “I’m your bitch.”

  He whimpers with pleasure, “Tell me you like it when I rape you, tell me you’re happy now.”

  I breathe out as my bottom lip trembles, “I’m… I’m…” but I can’t seem to make myself say I’m happy.

  But I know I am, I’m really happy, he’s hurt me, and I’ve proven to him how much damage I can take. See I can take it all.

  I’m happy… I know I am.

  But I can’t manage to say it to him, and I don’t understand why.

  He breathes out, one long ragged breath, the rage seeming to leave him. “You’ve destroyed my love for this sickness, god help us now,” and his voi
ce sounds like he’s on the verge of crying himself.

  He pulls his cock from me and backs off all at once letting my body slither to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. I lay there, almost seizing with pain and heart sickness.

  I’ve ruined it all.

  He kneels beside me and rolls me over to my back. My body fires with pain at the movement and my gut spasms with agony. I watch through helpless eyes as he slathers his hand in oil and begins stroking my soft cock.

  “Show me you’re a real man, hmmm?”

  I look at him in shock. The last thing I want to do is come. But the thought to fight back? How could I?

  “Come on, show me like you showed your Daddy.”

  I close my eyes to try and fight back the tears as my cock rouses for him, even with all of the pain and shame.

  He lets go and guides my hand to my own cock. I’m unsure of his intent until he stands and tells me to kneel and come on his boots. My body is so weak and torn I have to clutch his thigh as I do the deed. It destroys my soul as he pets my head gently and guides me to rest on his leg.

  “There’s a good bitch, hmm?”

  I nod and cry into his pants.

  “You liked when you’re father touched your rose, just admit it,” he whispers so gently, and god help me… god help me… I nod.

  “That’s when Daddy loved you, the only time he didn’t hurt you… the only time he loved you.”

  My sack tightens with pleasure at the sick thought at remembering how good it felt. “Stop… please god stop.”

  “Did he touch your rose softly?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and nod, “It’s the only time he was affectionate.”

  “No hugs, no comfort, the only soft touch was his fingers on your rose. And now you get sick when I touch you softly, you cannot separate the two.”

  “Yes,” I whisper low.

  “This is how you need to experience love with me, my mistake was thinking it could be different. That we could make something beautiful,” he’s so gentle running his hand through my hair, so fucking gentle.