The Storyteller (25 page)

“I couldn’t even tell you all of the things we did. I fear someone like you wouldn’t know how to react. I will tell you this. We were especially into spankings.”

“Did you ever get to spank Olivier?” the minister pondered. It was a question she hadn’t expected and she never considered in the duration of her secret relationship.

“No. Now that you bring it up. He was always the one to spank me.”

She hesitated and came to his defense.

“Remember, I was the one who wanted this. I was into receiving sexual discipline rather than giving it. It was a game I liked and longed for. I wanted it. I lusted for it. He was making it sound like I was doing his bidding, but he was doing mine when it came to the spanking game. The more it hurt, the better I liked it.”

“Do you like it still?”

Carrie reflected on the many times her bottom had been reddened.

“I’m not sure. On one hand I do, but on another I do not. It is getting too intense and happening often.”

“In other words, you’re losing control of your lover.”

Carrie sat silent, but finally a meek nod came.

“He was the best spanker ever. He was also a great lay. No one ever fucked me like he did when we decided to fuck.”

“So you also had physical sex with this demon?” Pastor Crabwater asked. “Do you ever worry that he might have impregnated you?”

“I’ve been on the pill for years, and even if I wasn’t, I really don’t know if a demon can impregnate a mortal,” she answered. “A lot of what you see in cheap movies is just that. Cheap crap. Besides, we did it in all the holes, if you get my drift!”

“And what did you do during period time?” the minister asked. It somewhat struck Carrie as way too personal, though she had already made the kinkier side an open book before him.

“We spanked with the pants up,” she said logically.

Again, she closed her eyes and she remembered a meeting with Olivier.

Carrie was on the bed, rubbing her ass after a tremendous session with a paddle. She had been bent by the sink and forced to absorb so many blows it was hard to walk. The pain was so great, she could not speak, but only blubber. It was then Olivier fell upon her, covering her anal area with some form of gel.

“This will make it easier,” he informed her.

“Make what easier?”

It was then she realized what was about to happen.

“NO! NOT THERE!”

The pain of Olivier’s stiff organ being shoved into her hurt far worse than the paddling she had just received. The head formed its way between her cheeks by force, and it felt as if she was being split in two. She grimaced as the band of her asshole snapped tightly back against the violation.

“Owwwwwwww!”

Olivier plunged his cock into her like a greased turd in reverse, his full weight on her flaming ass as he did so. The pain was doubled, both from her anal pillaging and her previous whapping.

“Owwwww!” she screamed again as she rebelled against the penetration, but Olivier was too strong for her.

“Bite the pillow if you have to. Bite the pillow.”

This was the first time Carrie had ever had it done in the butt, and in spite of the initial burning, she learned to relish this as well. Olivier had taught her something new once again.

In and out he moved, while her sphincter was stimulated as wildly as her traditional opening normally was.

“Owwwww!”

“Bite the pillow,” Olivier commanded. “Bite it!”

The thrusts became chaotic. She felt like she was having her insides probed with a baseball bat. The hurt was astronomical, but as with her beatings, she found such intense pleasure. She wanted the session to end, just to have that rock hard tool out of her, but she wanted it in, too. She was beside herself with excess.

“I’m having an orgasm! I’m coming hard! I’m coming now! I’m coming!”

“Tell me! Tell me, you whore!”

“I’m having an orgasm in my pussy and in my ass both!” she cried amid the thrusts.

Later, she would consider how absurd this statement must have sounded, but at the time it was a perfect way to describe things.

“Take it,” Olivier grunted. “Take it in your red ass! Take it!”

“Owwwww!”

Once again, Carrie let out a tormented scream.

“Bite the pillow, you slut! Bite that fucking pillow!”

Her asshole was riveted by the thrusts, and even the lubricant was being rubbed away. She hoped she wouldn’t be bleeding down there.

“OWWWWWWWW!”

“Bite that fucking pillow!”

Carrie did what she was told by force, for fear her screams would be heard far away. Biting down, she all but ate the cloth, and Olivier probed mercilessly within her. Suddenly, there was an explosion. Olivier may have been a demon, but he came like a mortal man.

“My God,” she cried. “Fuck my spanked ass! Come in my spanked ass for me! Oh my God! I don’t believe thisssss...”

Sometime later, there was softness in their conversation, so unlike the furious hammering she had received just moments before.

“Will you love me forever?” Olivier questioned. “Will you follow me where I choose to lead you?”

“Yes,” Carrie admitted, though her asshole still throbbed and her bottom burned. “Yes. You do things for me no one can.”

“You know you must never betray me. I have ways of knowing.”

Carrie sat silently, absorbed in the throbbing that still infiltrated her backside.

“People are starting to wonder about me. They think I am going to die an old spinster when I am in my sixties, unmarried and bored to death.”

“That’s a part of the price tag,” Olivier answered. “You can tell no one. They will not believe you. They’ll think you mad. You try telling anyone you’re in love with a being from beyond, and see how well that works for you.”

“I have no desire to tell.”

“Roll back over,” Oliver instructed, moving down to rest next to her on the bed.

Her buttocks hurt like the burning of a hundred torches as she repositioned herself on her back.

“Let’s do something again, I’ll get you going.”

Cupping her right breast, he inserted his mouth over the nipple and gently sucked upon it, then teased it with a slight tap of his teeth.

Though she thought herself spent, she was ready to go with whatever Olivier wanted to do to her.

The sensation of Olivier’s head suddenly inserted between her open legs was more than she could handle. Once again, she found herself shouting and screaming as a new feeling came to her. The flickering tongue penetrated within. It was darting about like an insect let loose inside of her. Though she had no resources left in response to the pleasurable sensations, she groaned in hapless resignation to her fate. It took forever for her to work herself up to what was being bestowed upon her, but eventually she was growing wet again. This time, it was a merciless tongue lashing in the most perverse sense of the word that sent her rolling along the hills of sexual joy.

“Ooooojjjjjjjjj!”

The thoughts were interrupted by Pastor Crabwater’s voice.

“So tell me about your situation.”

“This is the problem,” Carrie again informed the minister. “I was the dominator in the beginning, going back to me and Fred, and even before with that stuff I gave myself in the living room. I was a submissive, but only to a point. I was also a dominant. I was the one in control. In the beginning, I called upon Olivier and he came to me, but the change happened so subtly, I didn’t notice. I was changing. I was becoming less and less in control. I was becoming subservient to Olivier and his will. Now I’m at the point where I’m nothing but a slave, and I’m stuck with it. That’s why my dominant side is coming back through. I want to be rid of him.”

“Have you ever wondered why he has such a hold on you?” the minister asked.

Carrie didn’t have to think an answer through.

“He is an incredibly handsome man. You have to realize this. He’s the kind of man where everyone would turn and look at him if he walked into a bar. He is glorious. He is beautiful. He doesn’t look like one would image a demon to look at all.”

“The face you see as his is just a mask.” The minister went on, “Have you ever considered this might not be his true face? Let’s just say beyond the mask, he does look like a demon is supposed to look, with horns and red skin?”

“A mask?”

The pastor gave a shake of his head in the affirmative.

“So you think it is an illusion, and he is really ugly?” Carrie corrected. “I don’t know the Bible like you, but somewhere in there, I believe it says Satan comes as an angel of light. As would his minions, I would think.”

Pastor Crabwater nodded approvingly.

“Do you long for any other man?”

“At first I didn’t,” Carrie answered. “Olivier was all I needed. Again, you have to understand that I was totally absorbed in him. Here I was, some girl right out of high school, caught up in an unending sexual train ride, where I was getting and giving everything I ever dreamed about, with the most handsome man around. It was like being queen to a prom king. When Olivier appeared, I was so out of the element I was used to; I didn’t need to think of consequences. You know what I mean? Eve biting into that stupid apple. Forbidden fruit. Real forbidden.”

“Oh, the taste of forbidden fruit,” the minister sighed. “I’ll tell you this. We all taste it in one way or another.”

“I didn’t just take a bite of the apple,” Carrie mustered the strength to say. “I ate the whole thing. I should have noticed when Olivier was appearing even when I did not call him that something bad was up. That should have been the first sign that I’d made a mistake in my love life, but I was so blind I couldn’t pick it up. Just because my tastes differ from the norm, doesn’t mean I don’t feel true love, you know! I felt it for Olivier, like I never did for anyone human.”

She squirmed in her seat as the bruises below started to bother her.

“It was this last session where Olivier paddled me like usual. It was then I just decided I was through. I had enough. My ass had enough. I knew if I kept on I was going to be fucked and spanked to death. He was coming at all times and all hours. I could barely recover from one spanking when he was there to give me another. He was fucking me so often, I could hardly walk...”

Carrie caught herself.

“Sorry. My language got too specific again.”

“That is fine,” the pastor reassured her. “Whatever it takes so we can get to the bottom of this.”

Carrie gave an impromptu laugh.

“Get to the bottom of this. Well put.”

“You could probably free yourself right now by having your faith reborn,” Pastor Crabwater offered. “You can rid yourself of Olivier.”

“Let’s just kiss and say goodbye?” she questioned. “Isn’t that a song? With us, it would be more like let’s just spank and say goodbye!”

“You need to get control back over him if you are to be free.”

Carrie again closed her eyes. Deep within, she was gazing at both a spiritual and physical being. Lord Olivier was the embodiment of everything wicked. He was beautiful in every sense of the word anyone could ever come up with. Yet she knew what a beast she was doing combat with. In truth, she could not separate herself so easily from this long term lover, whether he be human, high-ranking demon, or something she had conjured up in her own mind.

Once more, she remembered the initial encounter in the dark where Olivier had led her to her bed and pulled her downward. Once again, she felt the whaps of the belt, agonizing in them, but relishing them as well.

“Owwww...”

The blows landed. She remembered how badly she hurt, much more clearly this time around.

“Owwwww...”

The thoughts were coming back to her again, uncontrolled and unrestrained.

“Owwww...”

The lust covered her like an avalanche. She was no longer rational. She wanted only the sensations being forced upon her. She would live for them.

“Owwwwwwww!”

Once more, she saw Olivier in all his spectral beauty, dressed in black where he was barely visible within the room, slamming away at her naked body.

Once more, she did the flat dance on the bed, kicking and jerking as she received each blow.

“I have a demon lover!” she proclaimed aloud to the pastor. “I have embraced hell!”

“He is something to fear, and I cannot lie to you,” the minister responded. “He is even more dangerous now that you have broken your vows with him. You’ve spoken about him to me, and if he finds that out, he’ll never trust you. He’ll know you want to leave him, and he’ll always wonder over the idea that if you betray him once, then you will do so again. This is a deadly and dangerous game you are playing with a supernatural creature. This is a serious thing.”

“Isn’t God stronger than the demons?” Carrie asked.

The response was not what she expected.

“I suppose so, if you knew where to look.”

It was then the force overtook Carrie and she envisioned horrid things. As she closed her eyes and heard the minister getting up from behind his desk, obscene ideas came to her. He was hard. So much for wondering about that. She could see through the rise in his pants.

“What we need to do is spank the evil out of you.”

Before she could inject anything else, the minister was grasping at her pants, feverishly trying to undo them. For a brief second, she struggled and tried to turn toward the door, but her ever-present desires overtook her, and she threw her arms around his neck, embracing him in a passionate grasp.

“Do me, Pastor Crabwater.”

She felt her pants being pulled down.

“Do me!”

“I’m going to give you new marks on top of those old ones,” he whispered. “We’re going to discipline that evil right out of you.”

Carrie opened her eyes and stared at the pastor, who was still seated at his desk, studying her.

“You know, you aren’t an unattractive man,” she hinted.

The minister’s expression was stoic.

“Maybe so, but I’m not the right man. Neither is Olivier, if he is a man at all.”

“It hasn’t been all that bad,” Carrie confided.

“What do you mean?”

She thought with her eyes open this time. No dreams. No sexual fantasies or dull conversation. She knew the answer.