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Posts Tagged ‘dark paranormal romance’

Paranormal Baddies: Why we Love ‘Em

As I approach the finale of In The Flesh, my online dark paranormal serial, I’m struck once again by waterhouse_apollo_and_daphnejust how much fun it is to write the baddies. In The Flesh is based on a very creepy short story I wrote a long time ago, a short story whose baddie didn’t even have a name. His lover thought he might actually be god! The idea of having a god for a lover, having a lover who is more than human and at the same time way less than human, who like the gods of mythology, considers himself above human law and ethics, never stops intriguing me. I revisited the idea in the Lakeland Witches novels and in the sequel serial novella, Demon Interrupted, as well as several other stories I’ve written. The baddie, of the short story is exactly the reason why I felt compelled to expand In The Flesh. At first, I planned only a novella, but the story was too big for even that, and the baddie opened up a whole new realm of questions to be answered. Just what makes a baddie, and how thin is the line between the monsters and the good guys? And more important still, why do we always on some deep level, want to fuck the baddies?

The best baddies, the ones I want to revisit over and over again, the ones I want to know more about, are the ones who are as intriguing and seductive as they are terrifying. The best baddies, the ones that I love most to read about or watch in the movies, are the ones by whom I’d secretly like to be seduced IF I could get away with it unscathed, which of course is always impossible. For a baddie to really work his magic in a novel, he has to entice the reader into the shadows. There needs to be something about him that we want. There needs to be depth and dimension that are well-rounded and dark enough to balance the hero in the seesaw of plot twists and turns that lead to the Happy Ever After. The best part about writing In The Flesh as a novel is that so many of the characters are ambiguous, so many of them could be viewed as monsters, and almost all of them walk a very thin line between hero and villain. That has made the novel one of the most exciting and fun works of fiction I’ve ever written.

Bernini's Hades and PersephoneI think the baddie has to do more than just make the hero shine. He also has to hold up the mirror that reflects back the hero’s own dark side. He has to elicit more than hate from the reader and the other characters. I think for a baddie to really make a plot sing, he has to elicit our own dark lusts and our own voyeuristic walk on the wild side. The baddie attracts us because he’s brave enough, bold enough, not to
care about convention, not to care about what civilised society expects. He’s quite comfortable with his dark side. And he gets what he wants because he doesn’t mind doing whatever he has to in order to get it. Of course none of us wants that for ourselves, and yet all of us want to know, vicariously through fiction, what that might feel like

As In The Flesh evolved from a short story to a novel, and the dark villain, though still nameless, acquired the title of the Guardian, I often found him terrifying to write because even in his darkest, most wicked moments, his logic seems to make perfect sense. His passions, lusts and desires seem so reasonable, and even when they don’t, the very conviction with which he believes them to be worthy makes everything he does seem almost sympathetic. Even as I wrote him in all his monstrosity, I found myself wanting to make excuses for him. I found myself wanting to redeem him somehow, and yet is there redemption for a proper baddie? Would they ever seek it out? If I’m being honest, it’s the villain’s darkness I love, and it’s his darkness that makes the fire of the hero and heroine burn brighter. It’s also the darkness that makes them question themselves and everything they believe in.

And that leads me to the true job of the villain in a good read, the villain is there for the hero and heroineIn the Flesh 11880534_1463650103936599_545702979581425574_n to spark against, the baddie is there to help the reader get a better picture of who the hero and heroine are. And the baddie is the knife and chisel that sculpts the hero and heroine into something better, something stronger.

And finally the villain is the reader’s (and the writer’s) voyeuristic walk on the dark side. We can go on that dark journey with the villain and we can go there safely, have a totally wicked time, and be back in time for dinner with the hero and heroine. And the Guardian promises to take both reader and writer on a seriously dark and terrifying, as well as outrageously sexy, journey.

 

There’s a new episode of In The Flesh up every Friday, and on Wattpad as well. You can read it in its entirety by following these links: In The Flesh, Wattpad.

 

 

 

In The Flesh Part 32: Dark Paranormal Romance in Progress. Enjoy!

Happy New Year everyone! And all the best in 2016! Since this is a time of new beginnings, today’s IMG_5258episode of In The Flesh is quite fitting as Susan awakens to a new life to find that the road might be a lot rougher than she’d expected.

There are only a few more episodes of In The Flesh left, so be sure to mark Fridays on your calendar, and hold on to your hats because things are getting wild.

In the Flesh  is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

 To Read the story in its entirety up to this point, follow the links.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13Part 14Part 15Part 16, Part 17Part 18Part 19Part 20Part 21Part 22Part 23Part 24Part 25 Part 26Part 27Part 28Part 29, Part 30Part 31.

 

Also follow In The Flesh on Wattpad

 

In the Flesh 11880534_1463650103936599_545702979581425574_nIn The Flesh Chapter 32

Awareness returned slowly with an irritating drip, drip, drip of something between my parted lips. Even more irritating was the acid burn at the back of my throat as whatever it was trickled down. Whatever it was, I felt I should have known, but I couldn’t for the life of me recall. Drip, drip, drip! I coughed and choked, flailing to shove the hand away from my face that stroked my jaw, but my efforts were useless. I was weak as a kitten, and I had no context for my situation, a fact that frightened me, and I flailed harder.

Strong arms cradled me, cool fingers stroked my throat and, someone spoke softly. “Swallow, my darling girl. You must swallow and take my strength.”

Drip, drip, drip!

“She has to drink. You have to make her drink, or she’ll die.” There was another male voice, a voice full of worry. A familiar voice.

“She’s already dead, Michael.” A woman’s voice commented.

“Shut up, Magda,” came the reply, a reply which I barely noticed because my attention was on the fact that I was dead. I was supposed to be, wasn’t I? Wasn’t that the plan? And then something was supposed to happen after that. I just couldn’t think for the irritating, burning drip, drip, drip making my eyes water and my sinuses sting.

“Drink my darling girl,” the soft voice was still insisting in my ear. The cool fingers were still stroking my throat. “You must drink from me now, as I have drank from you, and all shall be well.”

I choked and gagged and then swallowed. And the acid burn became warm and sweet and soothing down the back of my throat, bursting with richness and flavor, and suddenly I was starving for whatever it was that filled my mouth. The acid burn was transformed to fire and heat and life, and I was freezing and shivering, and I couldn’t get enough its warmth.

“That’s it, that’s right my darling drink. Drink from me. The shivering will pass, and you will soon not notice the cold.” A large hand cradled my head and guided me toward the source of the liquid fire. My teeth punctured flesh and, for a moment, I thought I would be sick at the very thought. But then, the drip, drip, drip became an even, steady flow that flooded my mouth and coursed down my throat into my belly, and the world around me burst into sharp focus. Alonso held me against his bare chest and I fed from the vein just above his left nipple. I fed as though I was starving. I fed as though I would never get enough. Child of his heart’s blood, he said I would be, and now I understood why.

“Welcome back.” Magda Gardener smiled down at me. But I didn’t respond. I had forgotten how to do anything but drink from Alonso, throwing my arms around him and pulling him closer to my lips, an act which caused him to sigh and moan softly. I couldn’t tell if it was with pleasure or if I was hurting him and, to be honest, I don’t think it would have mattered one way or another. I had little control over my need to feed at that point. It was far more instinct that drove me than it was any higher brain function and that, in itself, would have terrified me if I’d had the capacity to dwell on it. Whether I was causing him pain or not, he made no effort to hinder me, and I fed aggressively. For me it was pleasure, but of the most primitive kind, it was the satisfying of hunger, urgent, demanding hunger, hunger that insisted I feed as though I might never feed again; hunger that had as little to do with filling my belly as a thunderstorm has to do with filling the ocean. And yet in spite of my raging need, I was keenly aware of everything around me. It was just that I could concentrate on nothing at the moment but taking more of the spiced wine heat of Alonso’s blood into me. I had never tasted anything so sweet.

“It’s best not to touch her just yet,” Alonso said, when Michael reached out to stroke my cheek. “She is not herself. She is not yet safe.”

“Of course she’s not safe,” Michael snapped. “She’s a fucking vampire.”

“She is not yet a fucking vampire,” Alonso replied evenly. “She is not yet fully made. She must feed, then she must rest, and then feed again. Until that has happened, and until we can help her control her urges, she is in danger as are those around her.”

“How long?” Michael ran a hand through his hair and paced the small space, shoving at the makeshift curtain. “How long before she’s back to herself.”

“I do not know,” Alonso said. “It is different with every person, and I have never sired before.”

“Fucking hell! You mean you’re making this up as you go along? Jesus!”

“Michael, sit down and shut up,” Magda said. “Whether or not Alonso has sired a million or none, is dark moon image_xl_6338206irrelevant at this point. Susan made her choice, and Alonso will do what he must.”

“It is also a fact that you must prepare yourself for that while Susan will still be herself at the core of her being, she will be changed in ways that may be … difficult.”

“Christ!” Michael grumbled under his breath. “And the Guardian?” he asked, turning on Alonso, who growled a warning. Or at least I thought it was Alonso, but it was actually me. “Tell me at least that after what you’ve done to her that it worked.”

“There’s no sign of him,” Magda said. “But if he was in Susan’s body when Alonso took her, he’s still there.”

“Oh he’s there all right,” Talia said. “And not very happy about it either. But I promise you, by the time he realized he wasn’t just dreaming Alonso’s presence, the process was too far along for him to escape.”

“Can he hurt her?” Michael asked. “Can he use her as he did me?”

“He cannot use the dead,” Alonso said, and Michael flinched as though he had been slapped.

But Alonso made no apologies for being blunt. In truth he had other things on his mind. I knew because I could feel those things in the back of my own mind as though, by feeding from him, I also took from his thoughts. “She will sleep soon, when she is sated, and then we must get her, and myself, back to High View before dawn comes. This is not a safe place for either of us and, while I could manage in the crypt, I do not know what Susan’s needs will be, and I can better anticipate them in my own home, which is designed with our kind in mind.”

It happened so quickly that I almost missed it, the slacking of my mouth, the flickering of my tongue over my lips to make sure I’d not missed a single drop, and then I licked instinctually at the wound over Alonso’s heart to seal it. I fell asleep before I finished, all the while Alonso spoke soft, calming words to me from the edge of the dream world.

 

That was my last memory until I woke in a huge bed in a deeply shadowed room with no windows. Alonso sat in an over stuffed chair that had been moved close to the bed. I was aware of Magda and Michael in the room, sitting in the shadows, but they didn’t matter. For the moment, only Alonso mattered. I was in a black shirt that I knew was his, and nothing else, but then I had been naked with no actual memory of shedding my clothes when he had come to me at Chapel House. I could smell the high fells scent of him deep in the weave of the fabric beyond the reach of the surface smell of laundry soap.

That was not, however, the scent that dragged me up from my sleep, but rather the scent of blood, a smell that filled my mouth with saliva and made my stomach clench and cramp in hunger. I was out of Bernini Hades and Persephone close uptumblr_lg4h59T3z31qe2nvuo1_500the bed and on Alonso’s lap, clawing open his shirt, sending buttons flying so quickly that I barely had a sense of my own movement. Had I, it most certainly would have frightened me.

But when Alonso pushed me away and tried to ease me back in the bed saying something about not being able to feed me, whatever I was becoming lashed out like a whip with strength and speed I neither knew I had nor was I able to control. All I knew in that instant was unbearable hunger, which I had to satisfy at all costs. The chair went over backward with me landing on top of Alonso still trying to get to the source of nourishment. A split second later, I was the one flat on my back on the floor, with Alonso straddling me, pinning my arms above my head and me yelling like a banshee, “get off me! Get off me! Give it to me!”

I’ve heard that predators are often tunnel-visioned, unable to see anything but the prey in their sight once they begin to move in for the kill. Even as the thought horrified me, the fact that Michael and Magda now flanked Alonso and were yelling at me trying to calm me brought it home loud and clear that a predator was exactly what I had become, and even though I had known that would be the case when I had asked Alonso to take me, I was suddenly, painfully, aware of what that meant, even as none of the logic mattered, even as nothing in the whole world mattered but feeding.

“Listen to me, Susan,” Alonso was all but yelling at me just to get my attention, and I wanted to rip his face off for it. Damn it, all I wanted to do was to feed! “I cannot feed you, for both Talia and Reese have needed from me after our efforts at Chapel House. I am depleted my darling girl. But Michael and Magda will feed you.” Michael had already shed his shirt and knelt next to me pulling me to him as Alonso eased up his weight, and I lunged.

“Not from your heart, Michael,” Alonso warned, “from your wrist, even your neck, but not from your heart, it’s too dangerous.”

“From my heart,” came Michael’s breathless reply. “Only from my heart.” He swallowed back a hiss of pain as I tore at the flesh above his left nipple in frustration, unable to access the vein as I had with Alonso. He braced himself against my vicious tearing, crying out as I bit him again and again in desperation, only managing to bruise and lacerate and, while the surface bled, I could not get to the vein.

“Michael! Michael, there’s a reason why you don’t feed her from your heart’s blood.” It was Magda, who spoke. In that moment, Alonso wrestled me away from my efforts only long enough for Magda to slice a clean sharp incision with a Vitronox low on Michael’s left pectoral and, before the first flow had fallen to his nipple, I lunged and Alonso released me. I threw my arms around Michael and pulled in the first delicious taste of his blood, so different from Alonso’s, but no less heavenly, with the tang of summer fruit and woodland herbs, and he sighed with relief and cradled me to his chest.

“You romantic bastard,” Magda said to Michael, settling back on her knees and catching her breath while she watched my efforts. “It has nothing to do with your emotions, idiot. The heart’s blood must be opened by the giver, and that’s why it’s considered more intimate. It’s a gift. It can’t easily be taken by force.”

Michael only nodded and moaned as I pulled him still closer. It was when he laid his head back against the bed and his eyes fluttered shut that I realized he could barely hear Magda. In fact, I doubted that he’d understood a single word she’d said. With one hand he gently kneaded and caressed my flank while the other stroked and fisted my hair. In a moment of clarity, I felt the slow, deep shifting of his hips beneath me and became keenly aware that he was fully erect. My body responded in kind, nipples peaking, heat rising heave and humid between my thighs and my own hips shifting. But instinct won out in the end. I would revisit the lust once the hunger eased. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered Alonso saying that feeding and sex were both intimate acts best done together, and in private, whenever possible. Perhaps when I was finished feeding, I would fuck Michael. Perhaps when I was done drinking from the blood of his heart, I would reward him, reward both of us for his efforts.

I wanted him with every cell in my body. I had no idea I could hunger for him so deeply, so deeply that rose imagesall I could think about, all I could imagine was taking him into myself, taking all of him into myself, taking in his luscious dark ruby blood in large, thirsty gulps as though I would never get enough, and then mounting him and taking the essence of his life force in the same way, until we were both spent and exhausted from our efforts. In truth, as we writhed on the floor I felt as though the act of feeding would not be complete until we had coupled, but I needed strength before that could happen and Michael’s strength, Michael’s life’s blood was exhilarating in a very different way from Alonso’s .

From somewhere a long way off, I heard Magda and Alonso speaking in distressed tones, and I wished they’d leave us alone. I anticipated fucking Michael with each deep pull of his blood, and while I would prefer not to have an audience, the need I felt at the moment was even beyond what the Guardian had roused in me, and I was sure one act would not be, in and of itself completed without the other – certainly not when it was with Michael, therefore if they wouldn’t leave, I would just ignore them and have him anyway. But to my irritation, they had no intention of leaving, or even being quiet. They just kept getting louder, and Magda kept saying something over and over again. Gederofim, gederofim, gederofim,’ it sounded like over the euphoric buzz in my ears. ‘Gedheroffim, geteroffim, Get! Her! Off! Him!”

With me fighting like a tiger, Alonso pulled me free, “Susan … Susan! You can’t take any more from Michael. It’s too much.”

“Susan! You’ll kill him,” Magda shouted at me, just as she shoved her wrist in front of my open mouth. It was only once I’d punctured flesh – damn near breaking bone in the process — and tasted the sharp, clean citrus of her blood did I realize that Michael’s eyes were closed and he was pale, so pale. Alonso held the bed sheet tightly to the wound in his chest and gently slapped his face until he roused with a gasp.

In that instant I felt shame, fear, horror, and yet I could no more stop feeding that I could have stopped
the flow of time.

“He’ll be all right,” Alonso was saying, “He’ll be fine. He’ll be a little weak when he wakes up, but he’ll be fine. He’s an angel. He’s stronger than an ordinary mortal.”

And still I gorged, even as I wept and sobbed at Magda’s wrist, somewhere in the back of my mind realizing that my tears were still salt and not blood, and they were as bitter as they had been when I realized that Michael planned to sacrifice himself for me, and I had done all that I had done and still, heIn The Flesh 2 12006311_1476805985954344_6570546160088833292_n nearly died because of me – most surely would have if Alonso and Magda hadn’t intervened. I wept bitterly between great gulps of Magda’s blood, and she held me in strong arms, stroking my hair and speaking to me in some ancient language I didn’t understand, but being very careful not to withdraw her wrist. When I could manage a sane word, when I was sated enough I was once again on the edge of sleep, I sealed the wound and pulled Magda’s face close to mine, careful not to jostle her glasses. “Keep Michael away from me. Please. I don’t want to hurt him and … I don’t want him to see me like this.”

She tried to argue, but I grabbed her by the throat, and she stilled as though she were one of her own creations made of stone. “Promise me! I need you to promise me.”

“All right,” she said softly, and then I allowed myself to tumble back into the sleep of the dead.

 

In The Flesh Ch 31: Dark Paranormal Erotica in Progress. Enjoy!

In the Flesh 11880534_1463650103936599_545702979581425574_nHappy Holidays everyone!  And here’s a little dark paranormal pressie for you. In The flesh Chapter 31 in which Susan’s plan is played out in chilling ways. But will it work?

There are only a few more episodes of In The Flesh left, so be sure to mark Fridays on your calendar, and hold on to your hats because things are about to get wild.

In the Flesh  is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

 

 

To read the story in its entirety up to this point, follow the links.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13Part 14Part 15Part 16, Part 17Part 18Part 19Part 20Part 21Part 22Part 23Part 24Part 25 Part 26Part 27Part 28Part 29.

 

In The Flesh Chapter 31

“What is this strange feeling?” the Guardian said from wherever He was settled inside me, a place that, when I thought about it, felt like it might be just behind my breastbone. “I feel giddy, like your flesh has suddenly gotten heavier, and I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

“I’m just tired,” I said. “Having lots of sex does that to a mortal body and, though Michael doesn’t need rest, or didn’t when he was with you, it truly is one of the best parts of sex — that slide into the warm cottony afterglow of sleep after you’re well sated.”

“Then I must experience it,” He said as I yawned mightily. “Oh Susan, I must experience it all! I had no idea just how delightful female flesh could be to inhabit. My darling you have opened up whole new vistas for me, for us. Perhaps I shall divide my time between inhabiting your flesh and my angel’s, now that I know you are strong enough to house me. I think I should love to know what his cock feels like to you. I believe his substantial size would be a delightful pleasure thrusting up inside you.”

I only nodded and yawned again. Though I would have much preferred to stay awake, I had to sleep if the plan were to work. Talia had assured me that I would find sleep no problem when the time came. I wasn’t sure what she had done to me other than kiss me on the mouth and stroke me behind the ear, but it didn’t matter as long as it worked.

“Then let us experience sleep together, my little scribe, and when we awaken, I shall summon our angel and perhaps we shall punish him together for keeping us waiting.”

And we did. We slept, or at least I thought I slept. I thought I dreamed. I thought surely it must be Talia’s doing. I drifted for a long time aware of the foreign presence inside me, aware that it was only Magda’s talisman that kept just enough of me safe and focused. Without it I would be easily taken over by that presence. It was the champagne bubble effervescence coursing over my entire body that roused me from deep sleep to the place almost of waking but not quite. The feel of a feather touch raised the fine hairs on my forearms, up my spine, on the back of my neck, goose fleshing the tops of my breasts and tightening my nipples to bullet points.

“I’m here now, my darling girl. Don’t be afraid. It will hurt but a little, and then you will feel nothing but pleasure.”

I felt myself being lifted, cradled like a child in strong, hard arms. Then I inhaled the cold wild scent of the high fells and below it earth, solid and warmed by moss and fallen leaves, and I could have wept with relief, even as fear shot along all my nerve endings.

“Scribe, why is the vampire here with us?” The Guardian’s voice was more curious than upset.

“We’re dreaming,” I mumbled. ” A dream brought on by our self-pleasure, no doubt.”

“How so?”

“Perhaps you don’t crave the flesh of a vampire, but I assure you, we mortals do.”

“Why?”

“Because vampires have what we don’t — eternal life.”

“But they are dead,” He said.

“We mortals don’t see them that way. To us they’re powerful, beautiful, because they symbolise lust and dark moon image_xl_6338206virility, and we fantasise about being taken by them.”

There was a soft chuckle next my ear and cool fingers against my bare nape, pushing my hair aside.

“I did not know.” The Guardian said. “It seems very real.”

“Powerful dreams always do. Sometimes when we’re in them, it’s very difficult to tell if they’re real or not.”

“Then how do you know that this dream is not real?”

“A vampire would have no more use for you than you do for him,” I replied. “And it was he who sent me here, remember?”

“Of course.” The Guardian didn’t question my logic further for which I was grateful.

“We shall begin now, my darling girl,” came the voice next to my ear. “You have only to let me take you, and when I am finished, when I have emptied you completely and hold your life force within me, then I shall give it back to you, only changed.”

“Is this not the vampire from High View, Scribe — the one who grovels before Magda Gardener?”

I felt a vibration against my neck that might have been a growl, might have been a purr. “It is, yes.”

“And you find him attractive?”

“It’s a dream,” I said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Careful, my darling girl, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

“I suppose he’s comely enough.” The Guardian observed. “A pity his flesh is not living. I might enjoy inhabiting such a fine, strong body.”

“Good heavens, he is irritating, isn’t he?” Alonso’s voice was like velvet against my ear and with a start, I realised the Guardian couldn’t hear what Alonso said to me.

“He’s dreaming, Susan. You, however, are not. You must tell me now if you do not wish me to continue, for once I have tasted you, especially in your lust and your vulnerability, there will be no turning back, and I do not wish for you to despise me for what I have done.”

With an effort that seemed colossal, I slid my arm around his neck, amazed at how soft and how dark his hair was. As I pulled him to me, he stayed my efforts, only for a moment, and he kissed my cheek then held my gaze, only for a second longer, and his eyes were darker than midnight. Then he lowered his mouth to my nape, to the vein pulsing like a driving drum beat. His lips were deliciously warm, and it came as a surprise when he ran the flat if his tongue along the length of the vein pressing, lapping like a cat tasting milk and then pressing again with the tip as though he were probing for just the right spot.

The intake of his breath was like the sigh of a summer breeze. He kissed me once, on the spot where my pulse beat the strongest, and then again. My hand in his hair tightened to a fist. I caught my breath and held it, waiting in his embrace. It was a sharp pain, precise and doubled — just two pinpoints of pain like a surgeon’s twin incision against the side of my throat. I had barely time to notice it before blinding pain took my breath away. The world flashed white hot around me and I panicked and began to struggle, but he held me tightly, and as the skin gave beneath his bite, as I felt my blood flooding to his lips, I heard his voice inside my head.

“That is the worst of it done, my darling girl. Now you need only relax and let me take you.”

“Ouch!” Came the other voice in my head, reminding me I wasn’t alone with Alonso and surprising me how badly I suddenly wanted to be. “That was not pleasant. Susan, are dreams usually so physical?”

“Talia, can you not silence him?” Alonso spoke inside my head again and, for the first time, I noticed the succubus sat at my feet, gently stroking my ankle. She said nothing, but the Guardian gave a soft moan of contentment, or rather I did, but I knew it was his. And for the first time since He had deceived His way into my life, I was relieved that He was silent, that He couldn’t touch me, even though I felt the fullness of him pressing gently against the inside of my chest. I needed Him to sleep and to leave me alone for a little while longer, and it was with that thought I realised I was clinging to Alonso’s strong, well muscled frame and I wanted him like I had never wanted before. Christ! I wanted him to devour me, to take me completely into himself. I had never imagined it would be like this. Somehow I’d thought it would be more macabre, more solomn.

I would have writhed if I could have. I would have pulled him closer, if I could have, but I was lost, drowning in the swift flowing river of my blood that he pulled into his mouth in deep, thirsty gulps. That l couldn’t move, that my body was completely held in thrall to the flow of my own blood into his mouth mattered less that the fact that he fed from me, an act so powerful, so incredibly intimate, that I felt shy, awkward.

“It’s all right that you feel this way my darling Susan, for so we all feel at our making.” He spoke as rose imagesthough he’d read my thoughts, though in truth what I experienced was far too primal to actually be thoughts. “There is no act more intimate, no connection deeper than the taking and giving of blood. What I take now is meant to give me life, to give me your life, but only so I may give you back my own. In this act, we shall both find pleasure, and you will be more than my familiar. You will be the child of my own heart’s blood.”

There was a sudden thrashing behind my breastbone. Though I knew it wasn’t physical, it was no less real. “Susan, you have deceived me. I shall punish you very severely for this duplicity. Do you really think a dead creature can keep me from what is mine?” The Guardian’s voice was not raised, but in it was the edge of disquiet I’d not heard before.

“For your impertinence, vampire, I shall take your succubus and use her long and hard, even if she does
reek of your death.”

“You can try.” The voice that responded was different, and in my groggy, giddy state, a blurred apparition of Magda Gardener pushed aside the makeshift curtain that separated the mattress from the rest of the area. Even with her glasses still in place, her hair seemed to writhe and danced around her face as though it lived and breathed anger and fury. “I won’t hesitate to turn the scribe and the vampire if that’s what it takes, and well you know this.”

I felt as though my whole body jerked and struggled around the still point at which Alonso’s mouth pressed against my vein, but in truth I had not physically moved. I was incapable of movement, completely enthralled by the ebb and flow of my blood and the kiss and bite of the vampire at my throat.

“That won’t be necessary, Magda,” Talia spoke, her hand still caressing my ankle and my calf. “We’ve got this.”

“You shall all suffer for this deception!” The words came from Talia’s throat, but the Guardian spoke them from inside my body.

“Oh I doubt it,” the succubus managed in the next breath, her grip secure on my leg. And then He spoke inside my head, only to me, and I knew that no one else could hear Him.

“Susan, my darling little scribe, you can still set me free, just as you’ve done before. I can give you so much more than this vampire can. I can give you the mind of God, only release me and I promise you there will be no punishment, no recriminations, but I shall embrace you as my own. What I have promised, I shall perform. I shall give you the mind of God.”

“But you’re not God. I know this now. As I released you, so I now return you to your captivity. Only this time, I hold the key in a place where you can never reach it.” It was a thought, nothing more, but He heard me, and so did Alonso.

“Then I shall enthrall another to stake you and set me free,” the Guardian said.

“I’m already dead.” I replied. “If I become ash, I take you with me. All doors are closed to you. And now, you have your wish, a home in the flesh.”

“Susan, no. Susan please don’t do this. There is so much I have to offer you, so much to tell you, to show you. Please don’t do this.” I heard his voice from a long way off, and for a moment I feared he was escaping, but the weight pressing on my chest became more desperate as the voice drifted farther and farther away, and I must have moaned out loud. Perhaps I even thrashed. But then Alonso’s calming voice filled my whole body.

“There is nothing to worry about, my darling girl. All is exactly as it should be. His efforts of desperation In The Flesh 2 12006311_1476805985954344_6570546160088833292_nwill end soon, for you are nearing your death, and then we will remake you. I promise you the Guardian cannot leave. As for you there is now no turning back, so is it for him.”

“Not long now,” Talia said, and suddenly my vision was filled with Michael, who stepped around Magda and pushed his way forward. My heart was filled with Michael no matter where the Guardian resided inside me, and I think I tried to smile. But even that was such an effort.

He settled on the mattress next to me and took my limp hand in his pressing a kiss to my palm and closing my fingers around it.

“Not long now,” Talia said again.

This time with my last effort, with my last coherent thought, I shouted in my mind, the only part of me that still worked, “I love you, Michael. Tell him I love him … Tell him … Please tell him …

His fingers jerked against mine. A single tear slid down his cheek. He bent and pressed a kiss to my lips. It was the last thing I felt as I drew the breath of the living for the final time.

 

In The Flesh Ch 30: Dark Paranormal Romance in Progress. Enjoy!

In the Flesh 11880534_1463650103936599_545702979581425574_nIt’s Friday and time for episode 30 of In The flesh, in which Michael and Magda discover the sheer audacity of Susan’s plan.

Be sure to mark Fridays on your calendar for  In The Flesh. The next episode will be Christmas day, so grab some mulled wine — maybe something a little stronger, and hold on to your hats because things are about to get wild.

In the Flesh  is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

 

 

To read the story in its entirety up to this point, follow the links.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13Part 14Part 15Part 16, Part 17Part 18Part 19Part 20Part 21Part 22Part 23Part 24Part 25 Part 26Part 27Part 28, Part 29.

 

 

In The Flesh Chapter 30

Michael eased open the kitchen door of Chapel House, still miffed at Susan, who had shoved her way out of the Land Rover before he could find a parking place. The woman had no sense of self-preservation, he thought. As he shut the door behind him, he was instantly drawn by the sounds and scent of sex both, amplified by the Guardian like a homing beacon pulling Michael to Him as surely as if He had thrown a rope around his neck and tugged him down the hall toward the make-shift guestroom where Susan had slept. In spite of himself, in spite of the promise he had made not to feel anything, the sight of her naked and writhing on the mattress, the knowing exactly what was happening to her, how the Guardian was making her feel, stiffened Michael. The more ashamed he was that he could respond so inappropriately under such dire circumstances, the more aroused he became.

But there was little time for thoughts of his shame. It was as though a very large dog, wild with pleasure at the sight of him, suddenly overwhelmed him, nearly knocking him off his feet before wriggling and shifting and twisting until it had worked its way up inside him, right into the very centre of his heart. And then, just when he felt as though his chest would burst, just when breathing became impossible, and he was on the verge of panic, the feeling spread throughout his body like a wave washing up on a beach. He was taken aback by how pleasant the experience was, though he had once known that sensation well. In fact, he had once anticipated his joinings with the Guardian more than he did his next breath.

“Michael, my darling angel, welcome home! I knew in time you would back to me, and indeed, the time could not be more perfect,” came the voice inside his head. “If one of us can pleasure our lovely little scribe well, how much better can we two together please her? Oh, the thought of the three of us together so delights me, my darling! I am filled with such anticipation.”

Yes, Michael thought. Yes, it delighted him too. And it made so much sense now that he thought about it,
now that he could see the logic of it. How much better could they pleasure Susan together? His cock jerked against the fly of his jeans in anticipation. Almost before he knew what he was doing, his hands were on his zipper, and then awkwardly groping his cock with delight. The fact that his hand seldom left his cock when the Guardian was in residence had been one of the ways Michael could tell He was present when their relationship had gone tits-up and the Guardian had resorted to sneaking inside him while Michael slept. Though Michael could not imagine now how their relationship could have been anything but exquisite. Surely the fault must have all been his. Or perhaps it had all been Magda Gardener’s fault. Perhaps she had lied to him about the Guardian, planted seeds of doubt in his head about the Guardian’s love for him.

“Oh how I have missed the feel of your manhood, lovely boy, and the many fine uses we put it to Bernini Hades and Persephone close uptumblr_lg4h59T3z31qe2nvuo1_500together. But back then, we had not our lovely little scribe. I can hardly contain myself with thoughts of the heights of ecstasy we three shall reach together.”

Michael shared his anticipation with a pounding pulse and a weight in his balls that was almost unbearable. It was Susan they both wanted, Susan they both loved, Susan they would pleasure together, and he smiled at the thought of just how she would come, just how she would writhe and moan as they serviced her.

“I want you inside me, I want you inside me, I want you inside me,” came Susan’s breathless mantra from the mattress, and he was only too willing. Perhaps this decision was the wise one after all. Perhaps the three of them could be happy together. He found himself wondering how he ever could have doubted. Perhaps he would just tell the Guardian about Magda’s plan. Though the Guardian couldn’t defeat her, surely he could thwart her, surely he could find a way to keep them safe from her so that they could be together as the Guardian had always intended.

This was his chance to make Susan happy again. Certainly she had not been happy before when they’d left High View, and neither had he. After the interminable ride together from the vampire’s lair with her too angry to even speak to him, ripping his heart out every mile of the journey, after she had shoved open the door and pushed on ahead of him as soon as they’d arrived at Chapel House, it was balm to his soul to see her writhing for him, aching for him, as he was for her.

“How shall we take her, my angel?” the Guardian asked, still fondling his cock with Michael’s hand. “What shall we do to her? Shall we pleasure her first or punish her for leaving us, for making us suffer, for leaving us alone. She must be punished, you know.” With borrowed eyes, He glanced down at the hand on Michael’s cock, then pulled it away and wriggled his fingers as though needing to understand how they worked. “I have never had flesh with which to punish my lovers before, with which to cause harm for betrayal. How delightful this shall be. I think that before we give her what she so longs for, before we pleasure her into unconsciousness, we should punish her the same.”

And, to his horror, Michael found himself dragging his belt from its loops with spastic jerks. When it was at last free in his hand, almost before he knew what he was doing, he had lit a candle that set in a saucer on the chair which served as a makeshift nightstand. The he held the oblong buckle of the belt over the flame until the room smelled of hot metal, while on the bed, Susan only mewled and writhed gasping over and over for him to put it in her. “I have never marred human flesh,” the Guardian said inside Michael’s head. “My lovers have always been only too happy to inflict the punishments on themselves at my demand. Oh what a treat this shall be! Besides, if she wears our mark, then she won’t soon forget what happens to those who disobey us, will she Michael?”

To his utter horror, he found himself kneeling on the bed next to Susan, leaning forward to press the hot metal of the buckle into her bare breast, and even as he drew nearer, she ignored the danger as though the pain of the burn meant nothing compared to the desperation of her need as she begged him again and again to mount her. To his horror, he found that the hand not holding hot metal opened her legs just for that purpose as if the pain of one would in no way diminish the other. Even as he cried out and tried to pull away, his body did the Guardian’s bidding, just as it had always done, even as he screamed and begged for Him to stop.

 

“Oh God! Oh Christ! No! Please no! Please, Magda! Do it now! Please do it now, only don’t let me hurt her. Dear god, please don’t let me hurt her.”

He fought his way up from under a wool blanket, in the back of a stripped out van drenched in icy sweat
still yelling, “Magda do it now! Please, don’t let me hurt her!” at the top of his lungs before a hard hand clamped over his mouth and he found himself staring up into Reese Chambers’ sun-freckled face.

“Shut up,” the man said without preamble. He looked tired and worried.

But before Michael could ask what the hell was going on, Talia climbed into the van looking nearly as tired as Reese did. As she slid the side door shut, he noticed the steeple of Chapel House looming over the row of bungalows they were parked in front of. “Oh good, you’re both awake now,” the succubus said. “That makes my job easier. And frankly it was getting pretty tiring keeping you both dreaming. I’m good, but even I have my limits. Give her back her glasses,” she said to Reese. It was then that Michael noticed Magda sitting on the floor next to him, looking slightly worse for the wear, hands bound behind her Graveyard angel 2da8f31cc622c5a47d15ff0c4f1e114abback, eyes covered in a thick blindfold.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Michael exploded up from the floor, knocked Reese on his arse, and was surprised to find himself the victim of a well-executed leg sweep landing him practically in Magda’s lap. Before he could even blink, Reese had him in a chokehold, and he was seeing black spots on the edge of passing out.

“I suggest you calm down and listen before you make Talia angry,” Reese said, barely breathing hard. “She can be rather foul tempered when she’s tired.”

Michael tapped the floor as he’d seen wrestlers do to signify their submission, and Reese loosened his grip, but just enough so that Michael wouldn’t pass out, just enough to be sure that he would keep his word. “Where’s Susan? What the hell’s going on?”

“Susan’s with the Guardian,” Magda said, taking her glasses from Talia. She waited while the succubus slipped the knot on the blindfold, then she popped them on. “It appears we’ve been sabotaged,” she nodded to Talia and shrugged. “Everything you’ve experienced up until now has only been a dream. Our resident succubus has been a busy little bee.”

“Jesus! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Michael had to use all of his restraint to keep from throttling the succubus, though he figured if anything, she’d be more dangerous to tackle than even Reese was.

“We’ve given her a say in the matter,” Talia said. “And if you two would have trusted her enough to do the same, you might have remembered, she’s a fucking Scribe.”

“She’s untrained,” Magda added.

“Untrained my arse. What the hell do you think she’s been doing all these years, writing stories, getting paid for a craft she was born to. All she needed was to understand what was required of her, and you two were too full of yourselves to give her that chance. If anyone could come up with an alternative to your train wreck of a plan, it would be her.”

“And your solution is to turn her over to the Guardian alone?” Michael shoved his way to his feet again. He had to get to her. He had to go to Susan. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

This time it was Magda’s hand on his arm that stayed him from opening the van door and heading straight for Chapel House. “She’s not alone.”

He froze.

“Alonso’s with her,” Talia said.

“Alonso?” He felt the burn of jealousy low in his belly. “Why?”

“Because the Guardian won’t be expecting someone who’s not … living,” Reese said. “He won’t detect Alonso’s presence unless Alonso wants to be detected.”

“And by the time Alonso reveals himself,” Talia said, “it’ll be too late.”

“And Alonso should be announcing his presence any time now,” Reese glanced down at his watch, then back up at Talia expectantly.

“That means we’ll be needing your help.” Talia nodded to Magda and Michael.

“Then perhaps you should tell us exactly what your plan is so we’ll know what to do.” Magda lifted her still bound arms slightly and winced. “I’m a captive audience.”

“I swear, if any harm comes to Susan because of what you lot have pulled, I’ll snap both you necks and stake the vampire.”

Talia offered him a bland shrug. “You’re welcome to try.” Then she cut through Magda’s bonds with an efficient upward slice of her Vitronox.

“No harm is coming to anyone,” Reese said. “The plan’s a good one.” But Michael could see that Reese had his doubts too.

“Tell us, then.”

While the succubus shared the plan, Reese filled Styrofoam cups with tea from a flask and Michael listened in horror as the plan unfolded unaware that he had crushed the cup in his fist until Reese knelt in front of him and sopped up the spilled tea with an old towel.

“I can’t believe the goddamned vampire would drag her into something so insane. Magda, we can’t let her do this. It’s not too late. I know the Guardian will still be expecting me. We can still make this work. We’re not letting her do this. We’re not letting a vampire call the shots.”

“It was her plan,” Reese said between clenched teeth.

“Oh right, like I’m going to believe that she –”

“What?” Talia cut in. “That your little pet could actually think for herself. Did it ever occur to you that
she turned to Alonso, to us, because you two shut her out, because you two wouldn’t talk to her or listen to her?”

“Lest we forget that it was your fucking big mouth that got her into this mess in the first place. I trusted you. I fucking trusted you!”

“But you didn’t fucking trust her, did you?”

“Shut up, both of you! All of you.” This time it was Magda who spoke barely above a whisper, and the vanIn The Flesh 2 12006311_1476805985954344_6570546160088833292_n
was suddenly silent. She waited until all eyes were on her, and then she turned her attention to Talia. “Now, what do you need us to do?”

“Magda you can’t mean that,” Michaels said. “Dear god, you can’t really mean that.”

“The succubus is right, Michael. We should have trusted Susan. It’s a good plan. Solid.” She gave a lopsided shrug and shoved her glasses up tight against the bridge of her nose with an index finger. “It makes more sense than sacrificing you.” Before he could argue, she raised a hand, her gaze locked on him, and he felt the chill of it down his spine. “Michael, she’ll need you more than ever once this is over, but if you can’t see that, if you can’t see this plan through, then we’ll just leave you in the damn van.” She nodded to the zip ties that had bound her. “You may be strong, but you’re not that strong.”

Just then Talia’s phone buzzed an incoming text. She peeked at it and stuffed the device back in her jacket pocket. “He’s going in. We’ve got five minutes. Are you two in or out?”

 

In The Flesh Part 29: Dark Paranormal Romance in Progress. Enjoy!

In the Flesh 11880534_1463650103936599_545702979581425574_nIt’s Friday and time for episode 29 of In The flesh. Susan returns to Chapel House to face the Guardian, but will even the best made plan be enough to keep her and her friends safe?

There are only a few more episodes of In The Flesh left, so be sure to mark Fridays on your calendar, and hold on to your hats because things are about to get wild.

In the Flesh  is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

 

To read the story in its entirety up to this point, follow the links.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13Part 14Part 15Part 16, Part 17Part 18Part 19Part 20Part 21Part 22Part 23Part 24Part 25 Part 26Part 27, Part 28.

 

In the Flesh Chapter 29

It took an eternity for us to get to Chapel House and, at the same time, we arrived far too soon. I wasn’t ready, but then I knew there was no being ready, not really. How could I ever be ready for what was to come, but now that my mind was made up, more than anything I just wanted to get on with it. For a moment, I hated Michael for taking the choice from me. I hated Magda for agreeing to his demands, and I hated them both for keeping it all from me. Beyond that, I felt Michael’s withdrawal from me, his absence with a pain that nearly brought me to my knees. But there was nothing for it. I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. Focusing on the task at hand was the only way to deal with the pain right now. Michael would live. That’s what mattered most.

I left the Land Rover without giving myself time to think. There was no comfort to be had by lingering, nothing that could be done to make what I had to do any less a solitary act and, while both Alonso and Talia assured me that the plan would work, I knew only too well there were variables none of us could foresee. I knew only too well how crucial timing was. From the back of Chapel House, I entered through the wrought-iron gate and into the garden, concentrating on the thump, thump of Magda’s stone heart talisman against my breastbone, the weight of it heavier and heavier with each step I took. It was the feel of it against my skin that centred me, kept me focused, in spite of my anger at the woman. Very soon, none of that would matter. The tangle of the overgrown garden that had been an impenetrable maze when I was last here now was only a slight distraction. I wasn’t trying to escape. I wasn’t trying to steal anyone away. The Guardian would not hinder me from my returned to Him. I was only halfway to the kitchen door when I was all but overwhelmed by heavy scent of roses. I was really beginning to hate the fucking scent of roses. My stomach clenched fist tight, and for a moment I thought I would vomit. But I knew things now, things that even the Guardian didn’t. They might not make a difference in the end, but they did to me. I closed my eyes and thought of Michael sleeping in his bed in his lovely home with the sun coming up over the fells. I thought of crawling into bed next to him and breathing his clean, outdoorsy scent rather than the cloying, funerary scent of roses; I thought of being folded in his arms next to the strong steady beat of his heart. Which would continue to beat when I was finished here. I thought of Michael alive and sleeping peacefully, and I found my voice. “I’m here. I’ve come back. Just like you knew I would.”

2015-09-04 16.16.05 HDRAnd instantly I was embraced from behind, with such force and with such bodily presence that I had to glance over my shoulder to be certain there was no physical flesh. “I knew you would return to me, my little scribe.” The voice was like velvet against my ear, and I was reminded with the sudden tightening of my nipples beneath an invisible caress and the catch of my breath as my heart began to race, that no matter what magic Magda Gardener had woven around me, no matter what I had schemed and written on my Mac before I left High View, I was still horribly vulnerable, and I still wanted Him more than I ever wanted anything in my life. When He touched me, I could barely remember my own name, let alone what I was supposed to do when the time came. I found myself wondering if maybe Magda and Michael were right to give me no more of a task than to lie down and spread my legs. That — I could just about manage. That – more than likely I would have no choice in anyway at the end of the day. I took another deep, steadying breath, as invisible lips kissed my ear and the nape of my neck, as a splayed hand rested low against my belly pulling me back against an erection that felt flesh and blood real.

“I had to,” I whispered. “I had to come back to plead for Annie’s safety, for that of my friends. Surely you knew that I would.”

“Of course I knew that, my darling.” Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that my jeans were open, and I leaned heavily against the broad chest at my back, shifting my hips to ease the path of His hand as He wriggled warm fingers down inside the waistband of my panties.

“If you love me, as you say you do, then surely you can give me that. I’ve returned to you of my own free will, as you asked. Surly you can grant me that one simple request, the safety of those I love. Consider it a gift for your beloved. They’re nothing to you, after all. It’s only a little thing I ask.”

The air moved around me in a sudden rush of wind, hot and rancid with the smell of burning garbage.

“You understand, of course,” He said, “that you would have saved those you love a lot of suffering if you had stayed with me to begin with.” The shrug of His body felt almost like a thrust. “Oh, I realise that you had no choice in the matter when you were abducted by that bitch, Magda Gardener and the angel, but even that doesn’t fool me, my darling. I know well that you left willingly.

“That you came back willingly is also a lie. You came back because of my threats to those you love.”rose images

“But I came back,” I said. “The vampire didn’t want me there any more than you did.”

“The vampire, yes. He may be long dead, but his familiars all live and draw breath. He was wise to return you to me. Still,” there was another shrug of a thrust, and I realised to my horror that I was all but riding His hand as He slid it deep into my panties. “Still, all I would have had to do, dear little scribe, was wait. In time you would have returned to me in desperation, just as all of those who love me do. In time there would have been nothing Magda Gardener, the angel, nor the vampire and all his minions could have done to thwart your efforts to get back to me. In time, there would have been nothing short of your death that would have kept you from me. And that, I would have never allowed. So you see, you have nothing to bargain with.” A simple twitch of His fingers and I orgasmed, the heat of shame rising up my neck and burning my face even as I waited breathlessly for Him to bring me again.

“That I was impatient to have you back in my arms, that I was impatient to pleasure your body and have you pleasure mine – now that through my angel, I may have a body for you to pleasure — well, that is all that kept me from waiting for you until you came back to me of your own accord and threw yourself at my feet.”

I don’t know how He managed it or how I missed it, but I found myself on the mattress in the windowless space Annie had prepared for me as a guestroom. “I would have you on the altar to celebrate your return, my love, as is fitting for my consort, but it is tainted with your friend’s lust for me. I would have it cleansed and purified before I have you there. For now, I shall ravish you here. I shall punish you and hurt you for playing the whore with the angel, who belongs to me as surely as you do. I shall make you suffer even as I love you, even as you beg me for more.” Invisible hands eased me down on the bed, and I braced myself, concentrating with what little of my wits was left to me on the weight of the stone between my breasts. “This shall be the place of your punishment, the place of your purification, and only when you are repentant and once again pure, shall I enter you on the high altar.”

He pulled away suddenly and, for a second, I thought he had left me. “Where is the angel?” He asked.

“Oh he’ll be here soon enough,” I said, lying back on the pillow, cupping my breasts and thumbing my nipples, knowing if He were anything like most men, that would focus His attention quickly enough. “I wanted some time alone with you before he got here.” I ran my hand down to cup myself between my legs, absently stroking. The scent in the air was suddenly spicy, like Christmas evergreen laced with sandalwood and cloves. “You’ve been inside him. You’ve possessed him, used his body.”

“And I shall again. Do not try to deceive me, little one. He will come to me, and when he does, I promise once I’ve been inside him, possessed his body, there will be nothing you can do to persuade him to help your pathetic friends.”

dark moon image_xl_6338206“Oh, I know he’ll come,” I said, nibbling on my lip and catching my breath as I played with myself. Even scared shitless as I was, it wasn’t hard to masturbate, even to bring myself to orgasm, when just being in His presence kept me only a hairs breadth away. “It’s just that I want to know what it feels like too. You’ve never inhabited a woman’s flesh, have you? Or perhaps you can’t. Perhaps you can only inhabit men, maybe only angels. Have you ever possessed anyone other than Michael?”

The scent of him became more strongly cloves and nutmeg. “Of course I may possess who I will, though most vessels are not strong enough to contain me for very long, and I am loath to use up a good lover too quickly.”

“I’m not just any vessel. I’m a Scribe, and you promised me when I freed you, you promised me what every scribe desires. Don’t you remember, you said you could give me the mind of god.” My breath hitched and I made a show of nibbling my lip, of moaning softly. Though in truth, it was hardly a show. It was just doing what I had to do to keep from begging Him to fuck me.

“As you so rudely reminded me, I am not a god.” There was just a tiny whiff of garbage among the fragrance of holiday spices.

“You’re right. I was rude. I apologise.” And then, perhaps I drifted off for a few seconds, caught up in my own lust. I think it might have been the thump of the stone heart against my breast bone that brought me back to myself with my thighs spread wide, knees bent, feet flat on the mattress. The air was rank with the scent of male heat, and I had the sense of Him on the bed with me, face between my thighs watching, with deep fascination, the dance and dart of my fingers.

“It feels good.” He spoke and the cloves and nutmeg scent peaked.

“You have no idea,” I gasped, swallowing back the words in a little whimper and writhing against the mattress.

“I hear that for women it is different, for women there are no limits to the number of times they may take their release … well for women who are with mortal men, that is.”

I nodded with another little whimper. In truth, if it weren’t for the thump, thump of Magda’s talisman constantly reminding me why I was here, I would have been lost in my own lust, groveling for him to take me.

“Please,” I begged. “I know you can do whatever you want, but you told me, that very first night when I released you from your prison, that you could show me the mind of god. Surely that had to mean the you would possess me, take my body as your own, fill me with you, with your mind, let me know what it is you feel, what you think, how you see the world, even if it’s just for a few minutes, even if it’s the last thing that will ever matter to me as myself before you take me over completely and I stop caring about anything but you. I’m not stupid. I know that’s what awaits me no matter what you say. And, after all, I did release you.”

“It is true, my little scribe, you did set me free — truly a feat no one else in a thousand years could accomplish. Therefore, what I have promised, I will perform. ” I felt His palms move to the insides of my thighs and the intimate muscles of my body convulsed with anticipation. “It is but a small thing for me,” He said, running a tongue I couldn’t see over my flesh and parting me with slow wet kisses, “And I am most curious. Therefore, I shall do as you ask, and I shall give you the mind of god.”

I think I might have screamed, as His presence moved into me, as my body stretched and spread and In The Flesh 2 12006311_1476805985954344_6570546160088833292_nexpanded outward like the beginning of the universe, and just when I was certain I would fly apart into nothingness, the world righted itself, and my body was filled completely with Him. Before I could adjust
to the sensation, He spoke.

“I shall enjoy wearing the flesh of a woman.” As though it were no longer mine, my hand caressed my breasts with the awkwardness of a teenage boy, while He slowed my efforts between my legs so that he could explore the flesh He now possessed. I felt both split in two and at the same time, for the first time in my life I felt whole, feeling the rhythm of my heart beat, beat, beat, against the solid stone of Magda’s talisman. “Oh yes, it shall be a pleasure for both of us, my little scribe, but only until the angel gets here,” He added quickly. “For without the angel’s body, I will never be to you more than a touch you cannot see, a caress you cannot return. I will have his flesh, possess it as my own, and then, my lovely, I may service you as you deserve.”

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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