Authors: Mary Ann Mitchell
"I'm so sorry, Wil."
He turned to the door and saw Marie standing
with the door open, the knob still in her hand. Gently she closed
the door and slowly walked to the bed.
"Can he hear anything?"
Wil shook his head.
Why had she come?
he wondered.
Out of hate, spite, or curiosity?
"Get up off your knees, Wil."
He found himself obeying.
She stood on the opposite side of the bed,
facing Wil.
"You look like shit."
Wil sought escape by looking down at his
father.
"Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Not you, idiot. I'm talking to your dad.
Think they could close his mouth? He looks a bit demented with his
lips parted like that."
"He's a vegetable."
"Keith has always been an old turnip."
Shut up! Get out! Stay away from me!
"Where are you placing him?"
"In his old bedroom, of course."
"You're taking him home?"
Wil nodded.
"Why?"
"I'm going to take care of him myself."
"Too late. May as well pass him on to a
health care provider. Or is the cost a problem?"
"I want to take care of him."
"I can set up a trust fund for him. We'll
find an exceptionally good nursing home and move on with our lives
together."
"No!"
He faced her steady glare. She softened and
turned back to look at Keith.
"I'm sure Dad would feel better in a home."
Her hand reached out and stroked Keith's gray hair. "He hated you,
Wil, and from what I have observed, the feeling seemed mutual."
"Not true," Wil mechanically replied.
"Stop this stupid denial." She leaned over
Keith and blew a few fine hairs off his forehead. "You don't want
to see your son come home with the welts from my whips, the bites
from my teeth, and the slashes from my canes. Do you?"
Wil watched his father's body twitch and
shake. Immediately he ran from the room, calling for a doctor.
When he returned to the room, he saw Marie
bending over his father, whispering and licking his ear. Wil
reached out to grab her shoulders, but his hands were scorched by
her icy skin.
"Seizure!" he heard from behind him. People
pushed and shoved until he found himself in the hallway, watching
Marie heading for the elevator bank. Her mauve dress fluttered
around her calves. Her high heels tapped out the retreat.
A nurse's hand pulled him back toward his
father's room.
"Your father has had a seizure. The doctor
isn't sure what brought it on, but given your father's unstable
condition, it's unlikely that he'll be able to go home with you for
a while. Have you thought about a nursing home? They could give
your father twenty-four-hour-a-day care. It will be impossible for
you to do the same."
"He's coming home."
"Not a very wise choice, but it's certainly
your decision."
The nurse took the same path as Marie and
ended up getting on the same elevator. They smiled at each other.
Neither spoke.
"Damn you!" he shouted as the elevator doors
shut.
Chapter 41
"Remember when we were translating
Venus
in Furs?"
Sade nodded while removing his banded-collar
navy linen shirt. He had removed the black sheets from the windows
of the cabin tonight. Instead of illumination by candlelight, the
moon would spray ghostly shadows on the two lovers.
"I got a book of my own." Her hand dipped
into her red canvas bag and pulled out a thick newspaper. Playing
magician, she slid a blue-colored, large-format paperback from
within the pages.
Screw the Roses, Send Me the Thorns,
shouted the title in white letters. Cecelia giggled.
"I've been studying this book," she said
ominously.
"And?" The child learned faster than he had
thought she would.
"And I have a special surprise for you."
"Will it hurt?"
Cecelia nodded sagely.
Sade tossed his shirt to the floor and
quickly undid his black leather jeans. He carefully shed his outer
layer of animal skin, paring down to his own white flesh. Alerted,
his cock stretched forward and out toward the scantily clad teen.
Her skimpy white shorts and halter top barely covered her loins and
the tips of her breasts.
Cecelia tucked the book under one arm and
again reached into her canvas bag. This time she pulled out a new
clothesline still wrapped and sealed.
"I shall demand your full cooperation,
sir."
"Or..."
Confused, she hesitated. Suddenly she
exchanged the position of the book for the rope. Quickly her
fingers brushed across the multiple Post-its indexing the book.
"Why don't I stand in front of this coat
hook," Sade suggested.
"Yes, that's a good idea."
She placed the canvas bag, book and newspaper
on the floor and began to undo the cellophane binding the rope.
Unfortunately she broke a fingernail and stopped to suck on the
injured finger.
"Let me do that for you,
ma
chère."
The wrap disappeared in a flash.
"Now raise your wrists up to the hook," she
demanded.
Sade followed her order.
Clumsily Cecelia wrapped the smooth rope
around his wrists and around the hook. One burst of energy and Sade
could easily break free, but he wanted to play the game to the
conclusion.
"Mais, vos
clothes,
ma
chère."
She stood tall and did an abbreviated
striptease, giggling and blushing thorough it all.
The baby fat on her ass shimmied as she
walked back to the canvass bag.
"I'm going to brand you mine," she said while
dipping into her bag one more time. "I'm going to heat up the
Hibatchi and stamp my initials across your rump." And from the bag
she pulled a branding iron that displayed her initials across the
tip.
Quelle merveilleuse surprise!
The girl
showed herself to be quite willing to seek out the tools necessary
to enhance their relationship. He wondered how embarrassed she had
been while purchasing these
sensuelles
goodies.
She placed the Hibatchi near Sade and started
the fire.
"Now for the blindfold," she announced.
Again the canvas bag and yet another toy for
their amusement. She fingered the black blindfold lined with a
furry, cream material, attempting to tease and worry her
victim.
Sade allowed her to slip the blindfold over
his eyes; however, he did not tell her that he could still peek out
from the bottom of the blindfold. No, he wanted to observe his
mignon
as she attempted to bring pleasure to her lover.
Cecelia rubbed her body against his. Her
nipples were hard, but the skin felt smooth and soft. She spread
her legs so that she could rub her mound against his thigh.
Wet!
A perfect beginning, he
thought.
"You'll be all mine forever," she
whispered.
"Oui, vraiment!"
"Huh?"
"True! We
will
be together for
eternity." He smiled, thinking what a treasure he had found in the
petite coquine.
Her fingers brushed a few gray strands of
hair off his forehead. Her lips came nearer to his, and he could
feel her breath tickle the fine hairs inside his nostril. Finally
she placed a kiss on his lips and forced them apart with her
tongue, searching his mouth for the taste of wet pleasure.
Sade's cock ached, but he would wait for her
lead. Her hard nipples stabbing into his chest abraded his white
flesh. Her long legs meshed with his as her hand found his cock and
she began to draw her fingers in an up-and-down motion. Something
cold and metallic scraped the ridge of his organ. He remembered the
silver and onyx ring that she always wore.
She pulled away and shouted, "Enough"
Hardly.
"I am now going to brand you with my
initials."
Sade watched her jerk the branding iron in
and out of the Hibatchi's heat, purposefully causing the loud crash
of coal against metal.
She stopped, placed the iron on the floor,
and slowly tiptoed across the room. He could not see her open the
door; however, a slight squeak gave away her location.
What marvel could she be hiding outside the
cabin?
Her toes daintily returned to his view.
A Pepsi? And a hamburger patty? Did she plan
on stopping for a snack? Sade's sense of the erotic would be badly
ruffled.
La fille
would need true punishment.
"Now I'm going to mark your white flesh and
bathe in your pain," she said.
Her lines would get better with practice, he
assured himself.
Cecelia lifted the branding iron and made a
plentiful amount of noise hitting it against the Hibatchi. Quietly
she put the iron back on the wooden floor, lifted the hamburger
patty and Pepsi. In two swift movements she flipped the burger onto
the Hibatchi grill and slammed the frozen can of soda against his
left buttocks. The sizzle and smell of burning meat.
No doubt she wanted him to believe that the
burn from the icy can of soda actually was the branding iron.
Dramatically he sucked in air. His body
shivered, and he heard her giggle.
When she removed the blindfold she held the
can of soda in front of his eyes.
"It was only a frozen can of soda, silly. You
think I would consider marring such white, beautiful flesh? I read
that it's the fantasy that really counts. I got the idea from the
book."
She tried to untie his wrists, but only
seemed to manage to tighten the knots. Sade snapped apart the rope,
freeing both his hands.
If her wide blue eyes were any indication,
she seemed impressed by the feat.
"You could have freed yourself anytime, but
you trusted me."
"Oui.
Just as you should trust me,
ma chère.
It is now my turn."
"Nothing is as persuasive as the eloquence of lovers;
theirs is a logic of the heart that the mind's logic can never
equal."
Ernestine
by the
Marquis de Sade
Chapter 42
Marie's red-stained tongue licked the surface
of his penis in slow, long movements.
"Seems I may have a problem, Wil."
"What is it?" He sighed, delighting in the
pleasure she gave him.
"One of my clients has died. And... my name
has somehow been mentioned in connection with him. Very
embarrassing, as you can imagine. I try very hard to be circumspect
about my business, not only for my client's sake, but also my own.
This has forced me to think about going back to Paris sooner than I
had expected."
"You're going to leave me."
"No. However, we will have to travel
separately, since I'll need you to look after an important... piece
of luggage." Marie had found that the most comfortable way for her
to travel was in her coffin.
"I can't leave my father."
"Your father has already left you, Wil. He's
not coming back. Matter of fact, it's probably better that he not
return to us. I mean, given the condition of his brain, he will
never be able to function as he once did."
"I can't leave him."
Marie noticed the change in the timbre of his
voice. He wanted to pull back from the passion in order to find his
own integrity. Swiftly she took him fully into her mouth. She took
his groan as an indication that she had overcome his moment of
guilt.
"Before I leave," she hesitated, licking the
tip of his cock. "I have someone special that I want to see
stopped."
"Stopped? We're not talking murder, are
we?"
"Oh fi, he's already dead."
"Are you stopping the burial or
cremation?"
"Cremation. I like that. Burial would be
useless in his case, but a nice bonfire would work very well."
"I must admit I'm not following you."
"I want you to destroy a coffin, preferably
with a body inside it."
"Me? Why me?"
"How unladylike it would be for me to do it.
Besides, my granddaughter would never forgive me. I want to be able
to look Liliana in the eyes and seem shocked when she tells
me."
"Will she be returning to Paris also?"
Marie flicked the switch she held across his
penis.
"My granddaughter's not for you. Actually
she's dating some math whiz quite happily." She gazed up into Wil's
face. His dark eyes had lost the glisten of sensuality. His face
paled from the volume of blood she had syphoned off. "One would
think I don't make you happy."
"You remind me of the life I can't
escape."
"We're put here for pleasure, Wil. Not to
wallow in guilt. There should be no such thing as guilt. We do what
is best for ourselves."
"A man who takes a life should not feel
guilt?"
"No, Wil." She stretched her body across his,
fingering the ropes that bound him to the bed. "Death can be a
treasure or a waste, depending on one's ability to control the grim
reaper's sleep."
"You mean if I were to kill you--"
Marie laughed. "You couldn't. I'm long past
the fear of death. Only my body can be destroyed. My soul is now
bound to the earth."
"You mean you're not going to heaven? That's
a surprise." He smirked.
"I gave up heaven for pleasure."
"You mean all those saints I learned about in
Sunday school missed out big."
She shrugged her naked shoulders. "Everyone
has their own idea of pleasure. Mine is to exist forever."
Blood had crusted on his neck. She would have
to be careful not to take too much. She needed to make him drink
her own blemished blood. He would make a very masculine, sensual
vampire once he recognized the strength she could give him.
"Mine is to make up for all those years I
ignored my father."