Chemical [se]X (18 page)

“Goddess, you’re back early.” Grant’s voice was raspy, probably because his tonsils really took a beating.

“Surprise.” Veronica glared at me. “Who are these sluts?”

“This is Zak and Ryan, they’re here to remodel the dining room, remember?”

“Looks like they decided to nail something else instead.” She smirked, then lifted the top from a long wooden box. I was sure she was going to pull out a pistol, or a dagger, and my balls shriveled up from fear. “The gold ones are your favorite, right lover?”

Grant nodded, his eyes full of adoration for his gorgeous wife. She sauntered in a feline-like fashion, the truffle clamped between her teeth. Veronica lowered her mouth to Grant’s, he bit off one end of the chocolate, and then they kissed.

“I missed you lover, but I’m so glad you had company. Did they take good care of you?”

“They took me to heaven, darling. Look at them, aren’t they gorgeous?”

Veronica gave us the once over, then smiled. “Yes, they are yummy, and since they made you happy, I suppose they deserve a reward.”

My balls inflated again, happy to have escaped death one more time, and also thrilled with the idea of getting some wet, hot, pussy action. And tits. Tits, tits, tits.

“What do you think, boys, would you like a reward?” Veronica cooed.

“Yeah. Reward. Good.” I sounded like a fucking caveman, but at least I managed a few words. Zak could only stare. And drool.

She fed each of us another chocolate, followed by a kiss from her perfect lips. The woman was an angel in the flesh. Pale blonde hair flowed like silk across her delicate shoulders, skin like porcelain, shapely legs and a face that would put a super model to shame.

“Stay where you are until I say you can move.”

Veronica strutted to the center of the room, then turned her back to us. Slowly, she unzipped the back of her red silk dress, then lifted the hem and pulled it over her head. After peeking at us over her shoulder, she bent forward slightly and slipped her red lace panties down to her ankles. She kept her red stilettos on, and kicked the panties to the side. I swear to fuck, I almost came from the sight of her perky round ass.

“Goddess, I never get tired of gazing upon your beauty,” Grant said.

She giggled, then turned around to face us. First, I eyeballed her tits, and then crossed myself because by god, they were the most glorious pair I have ever witnessed. Slightly above teacup size, with pink pearl nipples that were hardened into points. I heard Zak murmur “I’m never washing these eyes again”, or something similar before biting into his knuckle. After I finally tore my eyes away from her amazing breasts, they traveled south, and I saw something that made my legs give out.

There, between her thighs, was the pinkest, smoothest, most clean shaven specimen of genitalia in the history of the world, or the galaxy, or the whole fucking goddamned universe.

“Mr. Mayor, sir, can I suck your wife’s dick?”

“You’ll have to ask her, she’s the one in charge.”

She beamed at me, then wagged her finger in the “come hither” motion. I crawled on my knees, until I was a hair’s breath away from her rock hard, twelve inch dick, so long the tip covered her belly button. She slid her fingers down the length, then rubbed her balls.

“You’re not afraid of my dick, pretty baby?”

“No, ma’am, I want to worship your dick, and maybe even take it for a ride.”

I heard Zak laugh. “You understand now, don’t you Ryan?”

“Yeah, Zak, I get it.”

Veronica reached for the lube. “Oh, you’re going to get it all right, pretty baby, you’re going to get it good.”

I couldn’t bend over fast enough.

The Alleged Savage

Annabeth Leong

I. A Test Meant to Be Failed

Agatha chewed her plain black bread as slowly as she could, keeping her head tipped down so she wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone. Now that she was 18, she sat at the long bench just beside the one for fully initiated brothers and sisters, but she still felt like a small child. She fought the urge to kick beneath the table. Her socks itched, and their elastic tops choked her muscular calves. She was bored of silent mealtimes, and she wished she could poke the girl beside her in the ribs and
talk
about something.

Most of all, Agatha wanted another slice of bread. She felt hungry all the time lately, but whenever she asked for larger portions, the elders looked disapprovingly at all the curves and muscles her body had grown and told her she’d clearly had more than enough. Agatha knew she’d only ever done as she was told. Some of the others snuck into the kitchen under cover of darkness and stole whatever food they could find, but Agatha always knelt for prayer when the first night bell rang, then climbed dutifully into bed at the sound of the second.

Her stomach growled. She counted to fifty before swallowing every bite, but the bread still disappeared at an alarming rate. Agatha had no choice but to beg for more. She wiped the corners of her mouth with her rough cloth napkin and clambered out of her seat. It would have been best to move silently, but she had become so large and awkward that she couldn’t help grunting, banging the side of her knee against the bench, and making the soles of her shoes squeak against the mess hall’s stone floor. By the time she reached Sister Maris Stella at the serving station, Agatha knew everyone was watching her. The eyes on her body made her feel disgusting and unwieldy. She couldn’t figure out where to put her hands or how to keep her hips from swinging.

She sank to her knees before the stern cook, trying not to wince at the hardness of the floor. “If you please, Sister?”

“Yes?” Sister Maris Stella sounded delighted, and Agatha relaxed until she glanced up and saw the cruelty in the other woman’s eyes.

“I… I’m very grateful for the meal you have served,” Agatha began.

“You’d best thank God for that,” the cook snapped back. “Did you walk up here to lead us all in a prayer of thanksgiving?”

“No, Sister. Though if you want me to—”

“Tell me what you’re doing at the front of the room, you little savage!”

Agatha flinched. She still felt embarrassed that it had taken so long for her to understand why people called her that. When she was little, she had believed the teachings that God had created everyone equal and loved everyone the same. It was only as a teenager that she had looked around and realized that no one else had skin and hair like hers, and that no one else her age had grown as tall as she had… or had developed a body that distracted people so intensely. She cleared her throat and wished she could shrink into a more acceptable shape. “Sister Maris Stella, may I please have another slice of bread?”

The woman grabbed Agatha by the hair and yanked her head back. Agatha blinked through a moment of dizziness, until her eyes could focus on Sister Maris Stella’s thin, flared nostrils and tight, disapproving mouth. “That’s the question of a glutton, isn’t it, girl?”

Shame and dismay flashed through Agatha’s body, but those emotions had begun to be accompanied by confusing sensations. Agatha’s stomach tightened, but there was an answering pulse between her legs that made her chest heat and her breath quicken. She feared punishment, but she couldn’t help envisioning it. The thought of being exposed as a sinner in front of the others filled her with righteous fury, because she didn’t deserve it. At the same time, she was as much a sinner as anyone else, and a part of her longed to be punished twice as hard for thinking otherwise, corrected by Sister Maris Stella until tears slipped out the corners of her eyes and she sagged with the exhaustion born of total submission to the will of the Lord.

Sister Maris Stella pulled Agatha’s hair even farther back, until her throat ached from the stretch. Agatha struggled to breathe through her panic. Her head pounded around the roots of her abused hair, and her pulse strained in her neck. “Answer me, little savage. Are you a glutton?”

Agatha closed her eyes. It would be better for her to admit that she was and beg for forgiveness, but telling lies was also a sin, and the truth was she’d been hungry. “No,” she whispered.

“What?”

“No. I’m not a glutton.”

“You’re not? You’re sure? You would swear before God?”

Sister Maris Stella released Agatha so suddenly that she scraped her elbows against the stone floor and only just missed hitting her head. The people in the mess hall gasped, and Agatha knew what she would see when the tears cleared from her eyes.

She took her time collecting herself, knowing she needed to be on guard for what was to come. Wiping her hand slowly across her face, Agatha murmured a quick prayer to the Lady of Abstinence, begging for the strength to resist temptation. Her heart soared at the moment she whispered
amen
, and she was certain the Virgin had heard her. Slowly, Agatha rose from the floor and faced Sister Maris Stella’s challenge.

Sure enough, the cook had placed the ultimate forbidden object on the table beside the remainder of the black bread. It was a small gold box, printed with red filigree and tied with a gold ribbon. All the fully initiated brothers and sisters carried one as a sign of their devotion to the Lady of Abstinence, constantly proving that they could resist the temptation that had consumed the rest of the world. Inside the box was the unforgivable transgression, and giving in meant permanent expulsion from the community. Inside was a single piece of chocolate, rumored to taste more delicious than anything else invented by God or Satan, laced with the dried essence of a plant that would destroy the conscience and turn the most saintly person into a beastly, lust-crazed animal destined for hell. All of Agatha’s education, spiritual and otherwise, had been designed to make her able to resist this piece of chocolate.

Sister Maris Stella caressed the box with one nail-bitten hand, clearly reveling in the collective held breath that silenced the room. She traced the letters on the top of the box, as if inventing the word herself.
S. I. N.
As if anyone in the room failed to realize what was on display, she pronounced the word as well, lingering on the consonants. “
Sin.
Sin, Agatha. Is that what you want? Is that what you’re really asking for?
Sin?
”

The word
sin
had always sounded ugly to Agatha. It made her think of fat serpents, or possibly of worms. Now, on Sister Maris Stella’s lips, it was round and red as an apple, as sour and deep as communion wine, as bitter yet intriguing as the act of rebellion itself. Sister Maris Stella licked her lips as if the word had left a delicious residue, and Agatha realized it was her turn to speak.

“Um, no,” she said. “I was simply hungry, and I was hoping for more bread.”

“You know that it’s a test for you, to be hungry? That we leave you a little empty on purpose?” She wasn’t looking at Agatha. These words were spoken to the room, to their rapt audience. “We want you to have room for God in that savage belly of yours. We want you to have practice going without, resisting temptation. Because when you meet sin in the world—and you will—we want you to know how to refuse it.” Her voice rose into a high, ecstatic shriek. “Do you know what it’s like outside these walls?
Debauchery.
Uncontained, shameless fornication. Men falling to their knees to lick the sinful places between women’s legs, forgetting to eat, abusing themselves. Women riding men in public, grunting like… yes, like
savages
, exposing their breasts for all to see. There are people who have fallen so deep into sin that they don’t care about man or woman anymore. They suck anything given to them, spread their legs and—”

“Sister, that’s quite enough!” Brother Anselm’s chair crashed to the floor as he jumped to his feet. “I think everyone here is well aware of the hellish dangers outside the sanctuary created in honor of Our Lady of Abstinence.”

His voice freed Agatha from the spell Sister Maris Stella’s words had created. She took a deep breath and shook her head. She had never heard the world outside described with quite so much vivid passion, but that didn’t matter. She knew it was evil. Agatha bowed her head. “I am not a glutton, though I will submit to whatever punishment is deemed necessary by the servants of the Lord. I have no wish for any further acquaintance with sin than is already given to me by the birthright of our fallen ancestors, Adam and Eve.” She spread her hands helplessly. “Do with me as you will.”

Sister Maris Stella made a derisive sound and tugged the ribbon off the box. She lifted the lid, and the scent of the forbidden chocolate wafted into Agatha’s nostrils for the first time. It was a salty, rich, delightful smell, like that of a mud puddle that begged for bare feet. A tinge of pepper rode atop the aroma, but much hotter and stronger than anything Agatha had tasted in Sister Maris Stella’s austere tomato soup. Agatha’s stomach growled again, loudly.

The stern cook smirked. “I think it’s time to test her,” she said to Brother Anselm. “She’s of age. Then we’ll know for sure whether she’s a glutton.”

Brother Anselm’s forehead wrinkled into deep furrows. “She’s not ready, Sister. You know that.”

Agatha’s head snapped up at that. Why did they doubt her? She had received top marks in every class. She truly believed, prayed to the best of her ability, practiced everything she’d been taught. The others taunted her for it. She knew her hurt showed on her face, but she couldn’t help it.

Brother Anselm stepped to her side. He typically served as thurifer during services, and the censer’s amber and frankincense smoke wafted permanently around his skin. “It’s not your fault, Agatha,” he murmured quietly. “You’ve done very well. It’s just that you…”

“It’s that you come from tainted blood,” Sister Maris Stella said, making no effort to lower her voice. “The people that first gave in to the temptations of this herb are a bunch of demons. She’s the child of demons, and even if we took her away before the demons could raise her—”

Agatha gasped. She’d thought she understood what it meant to be a little savage, but she had never guessed the true secret of her lineage. She stared at her hands as if they had betrayed her.