Jon Reskind - The unholy Master

Maybe… maybe, he would understand her now, realize that she had been as tormented as he… that she had wanted him too. But now it was different, she thought; they were together and they were man and wife, and she could give herself to him without fear of guilt or God's punishment. Dear Lord, he was making her so happy. She sensed the dew-drops of moisture rising there between her open thighs as the exposed hair-lined lips began a slow spasmodic contracting, throbbing wetly against each other.

"Oh, my darling Paul, take me now… touch me gently… rub me. Oohhh, yessss, yessss, that way… oooohhh yesss, darlinggggg," she moaned, helplessly caught up in the tingling pricks of lust that were dancing through her.

Then she felt his lips finally traverse the full length of her body and felt the burning heat of his breath on her neck. He ran his tongue around the rim of her ear, plunging it deep inside. Her whole body seemed aflame with a febrility of throbbing senses… her nerves were beginning to scream out! She couldn't wait much longer, or she would go mad!

And then she felt his tongue dart across the tips of her distended nipples, generating vibrating shocks to course through her… and the tongue was gone… but there it was again! She moaned as it moved wetly across her belly… into the soft curled mound of pubic hair between her thighs.

His lips probed and explored that soft, sensitive skin between her open legs until he found the erect, pulsing bud of her clitoris. Paul heard her cry out in agonized pleasure as he took the tiny palpitating jewel between his teeth and holding it tightly, ran his tongue-tip around and around in ever decreasing circles, until at last, he opened his mouth wider and moved his tongue downward, down the smooth moistened slit to the heated, throbbing opening of her vagina.

With his head buried in the hot muskiness of her loins, Paul could not see her, but he could feel her head rolling from side to side as he tongued her, and he could hear her whimpering, mewling sighs each time he swirled his tongue around the velvet-like inside of the soft hair-lined lips of her cunt. He drew her legs up, sliding his arms beneath them so that his shoulders and arms were wedged between her thighs. Then he pressed his hands under her thighs and pushed them further up until her legs draped over his shoulders, and lifting his hands beneath her quivering buttocks he pulled them up hungrily toward his open mouth.

Janet's cry of pleasure filled their stateroom as she felt him plunge his tongue deep into the liquid depths of her seething pussy. She reached jerkily for him, entangling her fingers in his hair, endeavoring to haul him further… further into her.

"Aaaaggghhh! Oh God, please… darling… please! I want you inside me! Now! Now! Fuck me! Fuck me! NOW."

She twisted his hair, pulling him violently upward. She saw the thin film of creamy wetness around his mouth as she pulled him to her, and her hands shook tremulously as she moved her lips to his, licking the viscous moisture from them.

"Please, darling…!" she gasped. "I want to feel you in me! Please hurry!"

The strange obscenity of her passion filled words excited Paul to a frenzied, blinding furor, and as he reached frantically for the buttons of his pajama tops, he felt her hands tearing the bottoms from him. He sensed the cool rush of air against his cock and balls as she freed them… and as suddenly he noted the stiffening of her body as he kneeled up between her legs.

Abruptly, she had frozen into an immobile, erotic statue, an expression of repugnance contorting that beautiful face that only seconds before had been caught up in the throes of ecstatic desire. As he stared at her in shocked amazement, Paul watched the abhorrent loathing creep into her eyes, until, of a sudden, she bared her teeth, reaching out at him with claw-like hands to rake the skin of his chest, her legs beginning to flail madly, a shrill scream emitting from deep in her throat.

"Get away from me! What're you trying to do to me?" she shrieked as she writhed and kicked and clawed at him wildly. "Get away from me! You're vile! You filthy bastard, I hate you!"

Paul Arden paced the floor of their small adjoining sitting room in his pajamas and robe, occasionally pausing before the closed door where Doctor Leduc endeavored to treat his paroxysmal Janet. A cigarette flicked nervously between his fingers and he drank heavily from the glass of straight bourbon he had poured himself.

What in God's name had suddenly come over her, he had no idea. One moment she had been the soft, gentle flower of passion, begging him to take her… the next, an insane, vicious little hellion, screaming and clawing at him like a maddened witch, completely beside herself in her wild frenzy. He couldn't believe it! Dear God, if it hadn't been for his talk with Leduc earlier he would probably have beaten her senseless, then fucked her until she couldn't walk. He had been that delirious with rage and desire.

He tried to piece it together, recalling the events as they had taken place, searching his mind for any one thing he had said or done that had set her off this way. Nothing. He could think of nothing. It didn't make sense… none of it. She had been perfectly beautiful up to the point where she had pulled down his pajama bottoms and saw his rigid member… Good God, had that done it? Was it possible? The sight of his penis had sent her off into a wild tantrum…!

The door opened and Doctor Leduc came out, closing it quietly behind him.

"She is sleeping, M'sieu'," he said softly. "I've given her a sedative and I doubt that she'll awaken before morning. However, I would advise you to… to sleep out here the remainder of the night."

Paul nodded, not knowing what to say. At first, he had intended to tell the whole thing, but suddenly he saw no damned reason for it. Still, he said, "I don't know what brought it on, Doctor. It was spontaneous… seeming to arise out of nowhere… nothing."

Leduc shrugged characteristically. "It is as I said earlier, M'sieu' Arden, these seizures will come upon her without understandable rhyme or reason… until we get to the source of the problem, eh?" He moved toward the door leading out to the passageway. There, he turned, "She will remember none of this in the morning when she awakens. You must treat her as if nothing unusual has happened."

"Yes… of course," agreed Paul despondently.

"You might casually remind her to stop by and see me, M'sieu'," he said, stepping out into the passageway. "We cannot afford to take any more chances."

"I will, Doctor."

Leduc made his curt bow. "Bonne nuit, M'sieu'."

"Good night, Doctor."

Janet didn't know what it was, what mental affliction had suddenly warped her mind into instantaneous loathing at the mere sight of Paul's naked body, but she well knew that the ailment had seized hold of her-neurotic or otherwise. Paul had said nothing… unbelievably nothing… not once complaining to her during the entire voyage… even after she would lead him on, begging him to make love to her, wanting him so badly that she ached maddeningly with her desire; and then, he would expose himself, his throbbing shaft leaping at her in its inflated, pent-up denial, and the detestation at its sight would envelop her like a vile, nauseous shroud, and the uncontrollable hate would take command of her.

But she did not hate him! In her heart she knew this; she loved him more than anything in the world! She had babbled her soul to Doctor Leduc, trying to extract from him the truth of her malady, but always his answers were evasive. Then, he would give her the shot, followed by the little glass of amber-colored liquid, and invariably the lewd hallucinations would ensue in the aftermath… with him, Doctor Leduc, as her partner in these lascivious aberrations. Yet, each day after her treatment, she would leave his quarters enjoying a completely sated and relaxed warmth that would remain with her throughout the day… until the night when she would again beg her darling Paul to take her… and then the horror would come over her once more.