Read The Kept Online

Authors: Sommer Marsden

The Kept (2 page)

“What is he?” I breathed, immediately drawn to the odd man out. Or dog, in this case. I dropped to my knees and felt moisture from the cold earth seep through my dress and tights. Damn.

“That is Aramis, and he is an unknown. New to my pets.”

He smiled with genuine affection and patted the shaggy dog on the head.

“He’s beautiful.” At my compliment, Aramis shoved his giant reddish snout against my pussy and snuffled.

A gorgeous warm gush escaped me as I was instantly aroused. Then the shame flooded through me and my face grew hot with another blush. I shook my head and started to sing
Delta Dawn
in my head to shield my naughty thoughts from the Father. It was involuntary, a flood of arousal when I was stimulated, but still. We’re taught over and over that animals are off limits. So even when their affections are intrusive, we feel guilt. Or I did, at least.

I lost my balance and fell on my ass in the dried grass and leaves. Aramis bounded over me, snuffling along my breasts and belly making the fluttery muscles there gallop from the ticklish stimulation. “Geez.”

“Sorry, sorry. He smells a pretty, horny girl. And there’s no shame in it. He shoved his face into your sex not vice versa.”

I coughed to cover the cry of dismay that wanted to escape me. The bastard was way too fast with the mind reading.

No amount of Helen Reddy was going to keep him out of my thoughts, it seemed.

Not in this lifetime, anyway…
I heard it in my head but it wasn’t my thought. That scared me a bit and I glanced around. My probing inspection of Father Joseph told me it was not him. He didn’t react at all to my steady stare other than to smile and help me up. When I looked at Aramis, he grinned. Had he been the source of the stray thought?

Surely not.

On my feet again, I surveyed the angel. “Still, he’s a dog.”

“So he appears to be.” Joseph laughed and I laughed with him. Aramis seemed to smile and he wagged his tail so hard I would not have been surprised to see him levitate.

“Let me show you the cemetery.”

I followed, and the dry leaves crunched under our feet noisily. A wind stirred up a circle of debris and the crows protested by taking flight but not before they cawed angrily at us for disturbing their noisy chat by the winged statue of Michael the Archangel. “Does Ms. Francis come out here often?” I asked. I would need to do magic. I would need it for relaxation and for healing. The only thing that would get me past this mess with Todd was some time to reconnect to myself, and what I wanted. I would obviously honor the law of the church. No magic inside, which was wise if the mystical energy was that intense. Nothing should be done to weaken the membrane between this realm and others.

“No. And she would not disturb you even if she did.”

I put my hands on a marker chiseled
Franklin Samuel Cole
1874-1952.
“She isn’t magical. Nor is she supportive,” I said, speaking from intuition.

Father Joseph’s hands covered my mine and I bent forward under his wide, warm body. His cock was hard. I could feel it push against my bottom as his teeth came down on the back of my neck; gently at first, then harder when I didn’t protest but panted greedily in the near silence. My breath plumed out in front of me, cottony air drifting from my lips. He rocked against me and I closed my eyes. The wind whistled high in the tall, old oaks.

“I can make the pain better, Shelly. Make you forget it for just a few moments if you like,” he said, as if offering me absolution or council. Maybe he was. I nodded and pushed my ass back against him in welcome.

“I would like that,” I managed. “I would like to feel good.”

His pressure increased and it forced my pelvis against the cold gray granite. The jagged edges, bit by the elements and constant freezing and thawing, pushed my soaked panties against my swollen clit. My body impatient, my heart beat erratic, I moaned.

He ground against me and I let my head hang down. I didn’t move my hands even when his left mine and his zipper sounded. His fingers slid up under my dress, gathering it to my waist like an apron.

He shoved my tights down and pushed my panties with them. They tethered me right above my boot tops, keeping me from spreading my stance any wider. He circled my cunt with the warm tip of his cock, and I wanted to push back. I wanted to be insistent and greedy and force him to go faster, but I didn’t.

I waited like a good girl as the cold wind bit at my naked bottom.

“Good girl. Patience is a virtue,” he praised me with a smile in his voice. Then he slid into me deep and it was good.

“Right there.” I clutched the back of the headstone as he rocked against me. His arms came around me, spreading his black sports jacket and draping me in priestly wings of fabric. His hands covered mine and he pounded into me as the cold stone bit at my swollen clit again. I shifted my hips to rub harder and his tempo slowed a bit. He was enjoying me and relishing the fact that I teetered on the edge somewhere between pain and a mind melting pleasure.

It was Father Joseph who moved my hand to my clit and strummed me to the orgasm I so desperately wanted. I heard a soft whining and when he emptied into me with a low cry, an extra sense of weight carried me forward. When I turned to look, Aramis was standing behind the father, his big paws on Joseph’s shoulders, his green eyes glittering.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Down boy,” Joseph said with a sigh, “Bad dog.”

“Naughty canine.” I laughed. My hair hung in my face and my cheeks were hot. The rest of me was cold, though. The bitter bite of the granite into the tops of my thighs forced me back into the circle of his arms. The wind kicked up higher, and somewhere close a crow let out its disgruntled caw.

“Let’s get you inside. Paperwork and all that. Plus, the longer we’re out here, the greater our chances of being discovered by my handler.”

“The lovely Miss Francis?” I yanked up my panties and my tights. Father Joseph smoothed my dress down over my ass like a gentleman.

“You know it. Let’s get you processed. Tomorrow will be a big day. Edna is planning a big charity event and you are going to be called upon to help.”

“You mean ordered?” I teased.

“Yes. I mean ordered,” he said and rubbed his big hand along my back.

When we went inside, the dogs watched us go. Aramis seemed to smile when I glanced his way.

Such a pretty boy.

***

I wandered outside on my break. Edna Francis was a monster. A monster disguised in a no-nonsense gray herringbone skirt and seashell pink fingernails and white, well maintained teeth, but a monster nonetheless. Keeping in mind the warning from Father Joseph, I waited until I had my own time and then went out to the cemetery. I said a patience spell, and then for good measure, I said it again.

There was no such thing as too much patience when it came to my new supervisor. A week was not enough to adjust me to her ways, even with intimate contact with the good Father for stress relief.

As the days passed I felt more and more in tune with Joseph, more protected and loved and cherished. It still did not help the urge to strangle Edna.

The worst part was Father Joseph wasn’t here to save me.

He had gone off to visit a grieving family and left me with Edna the Hun. I heard a car engine and saw her pulling out in her blue Crown Victoria. Probably off to get lunch: fresh blood or small babies or kittens, whatever it was that monsters ate.

I finished my apple and walked the perimeter of the cemetery fence. Small oaks sprouted here and there and bright green ivy climbed the chain link. Inside the fence, the dogs circled. Aramis came to me, whining but smiling with his eyes.

“Look who it is, the horny boy,” I cooed and leaned against the fence to pet him. I reached over, a rough link catching my sweater. Aramis shoved his snout through an opening and sniffed at my pussy.

He nudged my sex with his nose and hit my clit. I
oohed
softly. No one to hear me, but still.

“Stop that, you bad mutt,” I whispered.

I tugged but my sweater started to unravel with the pressure. “Damn it. And this thing is brand new. See, I go to pet you and you sexually assault me and ruin my sweater.” I snorted. The dog chuffed and it almost sounded like a laugh.

I reached down and pushed back the reddish blond mass of hair over his eyes. Human eyes stared up at me. “Son of a bitch.”

He chuffed again, nudging me with his nose and hitting my clit expertly. I looked again, convinced that the stress of a break up and the new job had pushed me over the edge. But the eyes that looked up at me were human. I recited the words, the Latin incantation, as I had been taught. I felt the ground sway and tilt as if the earth had just spun off its axis. I saw the green fairy lights blossom behind my eyes the way I always did. When I opened my eyes, I saw him.

Nude. On his knees. His face still pressed to the chain links.

To my sex.

“You can stand up now,” I said softly. I was startled but not frightened. I was mostly surprised that I had not picked up on it before, the fact that he was under a spell.

“No,” he said. That was all he said. He pushed his face against the fence again, his human nose not as effective as his canine snout. My skirt was thin and short. Under it, I was protected only by thigh highs and a pair of black panties, panties that were increasingly wet from seeing a man nude on his knees.

“Please get up,” I said. If he didn’t get up, I would forget myself and press against the fence. I was sure of it.

“I can smell him on you,” he said and pressed his face more firmly through the fence. His tongue licked against the fabric of my skirt, heat and moisture invading me through the thin barrier.

My head fell back and I made a small sound. “Who?”

“My master. My keeper. Father,” he said and licked again.

I had showered since I had been with Joseph, but I guessed his canine senses remained to a degree in his human body.

“He put the spell on you?” I asked. I bunched my skirt in my fists, dragging it higher. My brain told me to stop but my body demanded that I not. I yanked the top of my panties, tugging until the fabric slid sideways. My throbbing clit was exposed to the cold winter air for just a second before his soft tongue slid over me. He suckled and I grasped the fence to stay upright.

“Yes, it’s for protection. I am one of the Kept,” he said and licked harder.

I mashed my hips against the chain link. All I could think was that I was up on my tetanus and hope he was and then my brain dissolved from the pleasure given by his mouth, a nice full mouth surrounded by stubble that rasped against my skin as he ate me. “You can get up. Really. I won’t tell,” I said, praying he wouldn’t. I squeezed the cool metal fence with one hand and clutched my skirt with the other.

His tongue worked farther back, dipping into my wet ready cunt. “Oh God, your name? Your name is?”

“I like it down here, and my name is Edward,” he muttered.

He shoved his face more firmly into the metal and the fence crosshatched his pale skin with diamond marks. His tongue was a deep petal pink, and made wet sounds against my wetter cunt.

“I’m gong to come, Edward.” My breath blossomed in the cold gray air. Ghostly poppies.

“Good. Come closer. I can smell him. I can taste him. My master mixed with you is wonderful.”

His voice was soft and somewhat surreal. I pushed forward harder and he took just one hand off the ground and ran it along my skirt. Then he shoved it under my skirt and slid his wide, blunt fingers home.

He curled them once, twice, three times and I came around his slippery digits with a soft sigh.

I let my head fall against the cool metal and wondered if someone had put a hormone spell on the fucking cemetery.

I seemed to be getting a lot of action around its hallowed grounds.

“I see you two have met.”

Edward, still kneeling on the ground turned with a soft chuff, though his body was human.

I met Joseph’s eyes, expecting to see anger. Instead, I saw interest, humor and if I wasn’t mistaken, a bit of excitement.

“He said he’s kept,” I said.

“And so he is. I take it you get along.”

My pussy thumped at the memory of just how well Edward and I got along. I nodded and had the good grace to blush.

“Good. I’m glad. Come around here, Shelly. Get on your knees for Edward. Edward, darling, you stand.”

Edward finally stood and grinned at me. Dog, man, no matter what, his green eyes were gorgeous and always smiling.

***

Cloak us, shield us behind magic’s wall from prying eyes
and minds so small…
I muttered and heard both men softly repeat my words. That should work for Edna. It wasn’t a guarantee since I had just pulled it out of my ass so to speak. I went to kneel but Joseph pulled me in and kissed me. He gasped in my mouth and I saw Edward licking lazy circles along his neck. I worked at buttons, tugging the priestly garb out of the way, and Edward assisted me. My body still hummed with pleasure from my orgasm. I could still feel the ghostly touch of Edward’s big fingers pushing against my G-spot. I clenched my thighs and my internal muscles until little flickers worked through me. I met Edward’s bright green eyes and saw the pale purple mark along his throat. “You’re marked,” I marveled and a thrill went through me.

“You will be, too,” he said and pulled me in so that we too could share a kiss. His tongue tasted like me. Musky and sweet, the excitement I felt tasted like edible flowers from an expensive salad.

I kissed the mark just as Joseph put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees.

Edward’s cock was long and very hard. His skin flushed a raspberry red there, whereas on the rest of his body it was as pale as milk.

Ginger blond hair covered his groin and I buried my nose in it, inhaling deeply. He smelled dark and secret. I rubbed my cheek against his hard-on and he bucked a bit against my face, an involuntary reaction it seemed. His hands shoved into my hair and tugged just enough to make me wince. Just the way I liked it.

I opened my mouth and slid my tongue along his shaft with exaggerated care. He tasted salty and nice. I licked the velvety head that was turning a nice shade of violet, just waiting for me to release it. Give it pleasure. “You taste very good Edward. Wild. He won’t turn me into a dog if I don’t want him to, will he?” I whispered, and both men laughed.

Other books

Voice of Crow by Jeri Smith-Ready
Lost Girls by Claude Lalumiere
The Trophy Hunter by J M Zambrano
B00DW1DUQA EBOK by Kewin, Simon
Plan Bee by Hannah Reed
Gamble on Engagement by Rachel Astor