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Authors: Mary Ann Mitchell

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BOOK: Sips of Blood
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"How about I get Liliana to come over and
sit? You trust her, right?"

"I don't need to take a damn car ride right
now."

Marie walked over to the side table where the
phone sat, lifted the receiver, and started dialing a number.

"Shit, didn't you hear what I just said?" Wil
moved forward to set his hand down on the cradle. Marie grabbed his
wrist and held it, making it impossible for him to reach the
phone.

"Liliana, hi. I have a favor to ask."

Wil felt Marie's fingers digging into his
skin. Where her fingernails met flesh, blood seeped. Could she have
savagely attacked his father? he wondered.

 

* * *

 

Marie had opened all the windows of the car.
Her short hair barely moved. From the corner of her eye she could
see that Will fought a losing battle to keep his hair off his
face.

"Where the hell are we going?"

"A special surprise." She turned her head
slightly to wink at Wil.

"I've had plenty of surprises."

"But this one is a treat."

Marie pulled into Sade's driveway. Liliana
had said that he would be at home. Out of his coffin, but still at
home.

She turned off the ignition and invited Wil
to follow her.

"Who lives here?" Wil asked.

"You'll see." Marie smiled and reached for
the elaborate door knocker. The door opened before she had a chance
to knock.

"Marie!"

"Hello, Louis."

"Liliana is not at home."

"That's okay. We're here to visit with
you."

"I thought we were not even on speaking
terms."

"By now you should know that I never stay
angry with you." She brushed past Sade and crooked a finger in
invitation to Wil.

"Monsieur?"

"I'm..." Wil looked at Marie as if he didn't
know who the hell he was.

"Come in. Come in."

Sade stepped back and invited Wil into the
house.

Marie walked into the living room and settled
herself on the striped sofa.

"Wil is my... new friend."

Sade walked a circle around Wil. Marie
instantly recognized the predatory movements Sade made.
He's
interested.
She had made Wil slip on a clean shirt. The poor
boy had become as uncivilized as his father, hanging around in
dirty T-shirts and worn-out shorts. The white cotton shirt
emphasized Wil's tan.

"Isn't he beautiful?" She noted how Wil
flinched when she had spoken. "You are beautiful, you know."

Sade began to laugh. He turned his back on
the guests and settled in a distant chair and spread his legs.

"A charming pose, Louis. I believe I can see
the outline of your privates very clearly under those tight silk
pants."

"Enjoy, Marie, for this is the closest you'll
ever come to seeing them."

"Maybe I should go back home and take care of
my father," Wil said.

"You can't. I drove." Marie reached out and
patted the cushion next to her. "Sit down."

Wil continued to stand.

"Not very well trained,
ma
Marie."

"That's why I'm here, Louis."

"Ah! You've come to the
maître
for
assistance."

"Yes, the master. You've proven that."

"You want this one broken like the
other?"

"I'd rather you not be so enthusiastic."

She watched Sade's sly blue eyes study Wil.
Sade had left his silk shirt unbuttoned. The white hair on his
chest blended almost perfectly with the color of his flesh.

"I don't want scars," she said.

"Wait a second, I feel like I'm up for sale,"
Wil said.

"Certainly not." She turned to Sade. "He's a
gift."

Immediately Wil spun around and headed for
the front door.

"It is locked,
monsieur.
I am very
careful about that."

Wil walked back to the doorway of the living
room.

"Open the damn door!"

"You see what I have had to put up with."

Sade's lean, hungry face seemed tense. He
could barely contain himself, she thought. His cock strained
against the black silk.
Oooh, that must be
uncomfortable.

"I'm not submitting to anything."

"Once he does, he thoroughly enjoys it. Isn't
that true, Wil?"

"I'll break the damn door down if I have
to."

"Monsieur,
the door is metal. I had it
specially made. The windows are one-inch-thick polycarbonate. And
the keys
, monsieur,
are in the pocket of my slacks." Sade
stood and offered a hip to Will.

Wil's expression remained fearless. Marie
knew that Louis' height and slight build would make Wil feel
brave.

"I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Oh,
mais, monsieur,
I do."

"Who the hell is this guy?" Wil asked
Marie.

"My son-in-law." Now he would understand, she
thought.
Yes, this is the man I want you to kill.
He turned
toward Sade.

"Sir, I have no argument with you. She's just
causing trouble. She wants you dead."

"I already am
mort."

"I told you," Marie's voice rang out as a
soft bell.

"I'm not staying here with two nut jobs."

"Then come,
monsieur,
take the
key."

Wil shook his head and walked over to Sade,
hand extended to reach inside the pocket.

"I have deep pockets,
monsieur;
you
may have to reach down deep."

"I'm not in the mood to play." Wil touched
the silk and slipped his hand inside the pocket and found no key.
When he tried to withdraw, Sade took hold of his wrist and forced
Wil's hand deeper into the pocket, deep enough so that Wil's
fingertips brushed against Sade's balls.

"I've heard rumors that he is rather large.
Is that true, Wil?" Marie asked.

A light sweat had beaded on Wil's
forehead.

"And very firm,
monsieur."

Marie approached Wil, slowly undoing the
buttons running down the front of her dress.

Wil's Adams's apple bobbed several times.

She allowed the dress to fall to the floor.
She had purposely put on a leather corset with thigh-high silk
stockings.

"I need a taste of you, Wil," she said.

"What the hell does he have to do with this?"
Wil's eyes remained fixed on Sade's hand.

"You're a peace offering. The best of my
slaves. I demand you satisfy the whims of my enemy."

"It is difficult to satisfy me,
monsieur,
but we can spend hours trying.

 

 

 

"I did not think myself in a position to hesitate; by
accepting this cruel condition I exposed myself to further dangers,
to be sure...."

 

Justine

by the

Marquis de Sade

Chapter 52

 

 

"A tattoo right about here." Marie grabbed
the inside of Wil's naked thigh far enough up to brush the back of
her hand against his penis. "That would be nice, wouldn't it,
Wil?"

Drenched in sweat, Wil gave a low groan.

The small room had a very different decor
from Marie's dungeon. Here Wil experienced not only a sense of
claustrophobia, but the dizzily weird sensation of being in a
wonderland of torture that needed only a few instruments to bring a
profusion of pain.

The room went beyond sparse: the blank walls,
the barren floor, the simple wood board on which he knelt,
supported only by three wooden sawhorses that were tied together so
that they would not move.

Sade and Marie had played his unfettered body
for some time. He didn't know how long. He had accepted the probing
and lashings as a penance. Forever he would be pleading for
forgiveness; and with his father now mute and dumb, grace would
never be granted.

Marie had stripped naked in order to feel his
damp sticky flesh against her own. Once or twice she had reached
out to touch Sades' privates, which were still tucked away inside
the silk pants. However, Sade rebuked her silently each time with a
swat or simply a stare. She did not dare disobey him.
Was this
man her master?

Sade's untucked shirt slipped off his left
shoulder, the silk immediately creased because of the fall. The
white skin made the shoulder blade look like bone. Sade's breathing
never seemed labored, no matter how hard he struck a blow.

The only sweat stinking the room seemed to be
Wil's own. The other two remained dry, although their passion ran
hot. Sade and Marie moved with great speed and agility. Sade seemed
almost to forget Marie's presence, but Marie remained quite aware
of him. Instead of working in unison, Marie assisted Sade as a
nurse would in an operating room, attempting to think one step
ahead in order to have the appropriate utensil available.

"Sit,' Marie commanded.

Wil turned and painfully lifted each knee off
the board.

"Hurry, fool." She lashed out cruelly with
her tongue, using words that stung by their own torrid heat, but
she did not lay a whip on him. "Shall we tie him for the
tattoo?"

"Tattoos. I am bored with
monsieur'
s
tattoos. He already looks ridiculous with the cartoons decorating
his legs. Besides, he's used to that kind of pain and probably
would like something far more stimulating.

"What is it,
monsieur,
that would
spark a fire that could combust you into flying free far from this
earth?" Sade leaned against a drab pale wall. "You no longer scream
in true pain. The piercings, the scars have numbed you." He smiled.
"Certain scars are missing,
monsieur.
Ones that tingle the
skin even when at peace. A smile, a laugh, a brooding sigh, or a
touch of anger can cause a raging train of pain up and down the
nerves.

"Marie, there is rope on the back porch.
Fetch it
pour moi."

"Shouldn't we gag him?" Marie asked.

"Why? The room is soundproofed, and I shall
not indulge myself until you return."

Marie hesitated a moment before leaving the
room.

A throaty chuckle followed the closing of the
door.

"Ah,
monsieur,
it is not only you that
I torture, but my despicable mother-in-law also." Sade leaned in
close to Wil's face.
"Pourquoi
did she bring you to me?
Why?"

"Just as she said, I guess," Wil answered. "I
didn't expect to come here."

"Non, monsieur,
nothing is as she
says. She has taken your blood,
n'est-çe pas?"

Wil swallowed. Did this strange man want
blood also? So far they hadn't broken his skin, hadn't attempted to
mar his skin. The pain had been subtle. Pin pricks, twisting of
piercings, penetration. Nothing that drew his blood. Carefully it
seemed that had been avoided.

"Monsieur,
it will take her a while to
find the rope, but not forever. Tell me, have you shared blood with
her?"

"What do you care?"

"She needs to feed, but I have forbidden her
to share."

"What the hell are you to her?"

"Her master."

"You taught her all the tricks of the
trade."

"Not all. Besides, she can be very
imaginative." Sade took hold of Wil's hair and pulled his head
back. "Answer me,
monsieur,
has she shared?"

The door opened.

"The rope wasn't on the porch. I found it in
the garage, awfully greasy and frayed, though. Must get used a
lot."

A powerful pull and Will's head hit the
board. His body lay prone and vulnerable.

"Raise your arms,
monsieur."

"Marie..." Wil's voice faltered slightly.

"Do as he says, pet. Do not embarrass
me."

Wil raised his arms, and Marie quickly
circled his wrists with the filthy rope. She pulled tight, making
the frayed rope dig into Wil's flesh, pulling even tighter when she
looped the rope through the fastener under the board.

"Ici,"
Sade said.

Marie threw the long end of the rope to Sade,
who stood at the foot of the board. He then attached Wil's ankles
to the board. The rope running across the front of his body
scratched the skin and put enough pressure on recent bruises to
cause constant pain.

"I left a tin of lighter fluid on the kitchen
counter. Retrieve it, Marie."

Wil watched Marie's chest heave. This
definitely was torture for her.
Why the hell was she doing this?
This man she wanted destroyed. Why feign respect for him and scurry
as a trained pet for him?

Again she left the room.

"This time she will return faster,
monsieur.
I really did leave the lighter fluid on the
kitchen counter. You always look so pained when she leaves. Can you
be that dependent on her?" Sade leaned over and whispered in Wil's
ear. "Has she shared her blood with you?"

Sade's voice chilled Wil's body. The shiver
brought deeper pain.
This is her secret from this man.

Sade yanked Wil's earlobe so hard his neck
spasmed in pain.

"Monsieur,
do you wonder why I have
sent her for lighter fluid? Think on it. Think of the precious
parts of your body that could be blistered and peeled into a
blackened stump." Sade's hand wavered over Wil's cock. Instead of
heat, the hand seemed to emanate cold. Sade pulled out a gold,
garnet-studded lighter. "I could just fill up my lighter."

The door opened.

"Too late,
monsieur."

Sade had kept his voice low, but Wil could
tell that she had heard. She seemed relieved, as if she had guessed
that a failed inquisition had been taking place in her absence.

Sade took the fluid from Marie and shook the
can.

"We are in luck,
monsieur.
The tin is
almost full." Sade plucked the lid from the can and threw it to the
floor. "The fluid will refresh your sweaty skin." He began to pour
the fluid lightly over Wil's chest, moving down to the stomach and
abdomen.

BOOK: Sips of Blood
5.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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