Note: Although it was unintended, I would be remiss in not giving a nod to Eye of Serpent for the similarity at least in name, insanity if not in its cause, and method if not in glee, to Belle Simon of Eye’s Belle Cell series of stories. Although not modeled on Belle, and though Simone is a tad darker (I think), there are certainly similarities and it’s only fair to mention Eye’s stories (and recommend them!). Thanks, Eye!
This story is intended for adults. If you are under the age of 18 or if you find stories containing graphic sex and sexual themes offensive, go elsewhere.
©2004 by Sara H—All rights reserved. Posting elsewhere only by explicit permission of the author.
Feast
by Sara H
* * *Chapter Four
Life was busier, now that Simone was in working mode. The first stage of her takeover of Rogers Valley had gone without a hitch as far as she could tell, although it would be a few days to a week before she could verify many of her results. But she was confident in the abilities of The Behemoth, as well as the other devices she planned to use.
Before she would be able to consider her work done, however, there would be several more nights of deepening the effects of the complex machine at the very least. Cumulative treatment would be necessary to make the entire valley hers, and although she didn’t mind—it was, after all, a matter of simple reality—there were several people for whom she had special plans.
Close and intense contact with a properly configured polyspectral field could create a dedicated and completely willing slave in less than an hour. With the right technique, the treatments necessary for permanent change would be completed by the newborn slave without any more direct interaction from Simone.
She shivered pleasurably at the thought of creating such a wonderful cascade of events, and hummed happily as she continued preparing. It was fair to say that she loved her work as much as the effect she was having on the valley.
She loved each and every barrier she came to, thinking of it only as another puzzle to solve. First and foremost of the remaining barriers were the men. While she wanted them to see her handiwork, she would have to figure out how to defuse their coming outrage, especially when they figured out that someone was behind all the changes. She’d had several ideas, but until recently hadn’t come up with one that would achieve her goals without unacceptable risks.
But that was now solved... such was the nature of inspiration.
So for most of the rest of the morning and afternoon, there were new things to accomplish. She picked up the phone and dialed the number of the Rogers Falls Baptist Church.
“Hello,” she said when the phone picked up. “My name is Lorraine Shepherd, and I just moved into the area. I’ve been really missing church, and I was wondering if I could talk to your pastor sometime?”
She listened as the secretary on the other end of the line thanked her for calling, and then asked for her name again.
“Yes, it’s L-o-r-r-a-i-n-e, and Shepherd is spelled just like it sounds—like watching my flocks at night,” she answered.
She waited patiently as the secretary checked the pastor’s schedule and mentioned an opening, to which she responded, “He could? I mean he does? That would be great! I’ll be there in about an hour and a half! Thanks, and God bless you!
“Buh-bye!”
Simone set the phone down and sighed with satisfaction. A new member in a rural church was always a big deal, and she’d spent enough of her youth learning how to say the right things—it was like walking through an open cattle gate.
She sat for a moment in thought as she considered her next task, and then dialed the cable TV company.
With a shiver, she began to finger her clit absently as she spoke to the young woman who answered the phone.
There was just so much to do.
Dr. Hembolt Peterson looked across his desk at the young woman who was asking to join his church. She’d said her name was “Lorraine Shepherd” but he wasn’t fooled for a moment. Did this little snippet really think he’d have forgotten the biggest scandal in Rogers Valley or the person around whom it had revolved? The blonde wig and glasses didn’t hide the fact that she was the Aubrey girl, albeit a few years older and somewhat more alluring, in a trashy kind of way.
He took off his glasses and placed them on the desk. It was time to end this childish charade.
“Look, Miss... Shepherd. I know who you really are. I assume you’ve come back to cause trouble of some kind, and I’ll tell you now, the people in this valley won’t put up with any shenanigans, nor will I,” he said. His voice took on an air of stoic indignation.
“I don’t understand... who do you think I am?” asked Lorraine with a meekness that was at both appalling and disarming to the middle-aged pastor.
“Stop it. Now. You’re Simone Aubrey, and making me say so just shows the lack of decency you have that goes beyond trying to fool me in the first place. I expected to meet someone interested in godly ways, in church, and instead have met someone who prefers demons of lust.”
Simone settled back in her chair, still relaxed and calm. “Well, Hemmie... you don’t mind if I call you that, do you? Hemmie, I’ll admit it was childish, but it did get me in here to see you, which we both know wouldn’t have happened had I announced I was coming. I daresay you’d be off hiding somewhere rather than confront a victim of your cruelty,” said Simone as a sweet smile widened her features.
“I’m not to blame for the consequences of your own abominable actions, Ms. Aubrey. You are. There really isn’t anything else to say. I think you should go now,” said Dr. Peterson, turning his attention to papers on his desk. As he read, he added, “In the interest of compassion, it’s only fair to tell you that I don’t think being forced out of Rogers Valley would be any more pleasant a second time. It will be much easier if you leave of your own accord, as silently as you returned.”
Simone remained seated, letting the seconds tick by without answering. When Dr. Peterson looked up again, he saw she was still smiling. Once she had his attention again, she said, “I came here to give you a chance to be kind—to show some regret for how things went. But as I expected, you’re the same bigoted, uncaring control freak you always were.”
Her hands began to wander her torso and she arched her back with a pleasurable sigh. Her voice became more breathy and deep as she continued, “I think you should ask me to stay around. I think you will be happier in the end if you do... and very unhappy if you don’t.”
“I don’t like threats, even ambiguous ones, Ms. Aubrey, and yours have no weight. Good day.”
“Oh, I’m not threatening at all. Do you remember Cindy Johnson? You know... the girl who committed suicide after we were caught together? Everyone thought it was her shame from being in love with another woman. But you and I know differently, don’t we, Hemmie.
“And it just so happens that I have her telling me her story of your affair with her on video tape. In excruciating detail. Does the phrase, ‘Take it, Bathsheba!’ while riding her ass ring any bells? Or does your memory only go so far as remembering me? Do you still have a mole just above your pubic hair? And does your cock still bend upward and terribly to the right?
“Tell me... was Mrs. Peterson’s spitting on me a result of your lies, or is she in on the little game, too? I’ll be glad to ask her after she’s seen the tape.”
Dr. Peterson dropped the papers in his hand, his face ashen. “Get out of here, you whore. If you think anyone would believe some crazy, debauched abomination over their pastor, you’re even more insane than any of us thought,” he hissed.
“Oh, now don’t be so dramatic. Leave? Why, Hemmie, I’m going to be a permanent resident. A veritable fixture. After all, this is home, yes? And we’re going to be great friends, you and me,” said Simone, lifting her briefcase onto the table. “I actually came here to bring you a gift. Something that will very much enrich your life, Hemmie.”
Before he had a chance to respond, Simone touched the right-hand latch of the briefcase, and a soft, low hum filled the small office. Dr. Peterson felt his face go slack, and then, with a touch of surprise followed by acceptance, everything went from a nightmare to something... peaceful. Something very nice. Wonderful, in fact.
“Hemmie, meet Polly... Polly, meet Hemmie,” whispered Simone. “Polly is a little something I came up with while away, and I just couldn’t wait to show you. It is a little device to help you see things my way... although you won’t remember meeting.
“But it will smooth out all the troubles, all the worries, all the responsibility. It will take care of all the bad things you have done, all your particular sins. You see, I do have compassion... if you want to call it that,” said Simone. “And of course you want to call it that. To you, I am the embodiment of compassion and understanding, don’t you agree?”
“Sure,” mumbled Dr. Peterson, finding it very difficult to focus on her words. He felt so good. “Cm’passion.”
“And I know all kinds of true things about you. Very true things. More than you know yourself. You are about to learn these things. Isn’t that wonderful, Hemmie?”
“’Unnerful...” sighed Dr. Peterson, eyes glazing over and then closing as his mind went elsewhere for awhile, emptying itself to make room for whatever Simone had to say.
“So let’s be honest, Hemmie. You find my voice very arousing, don’t you?”
“Nnnga hah,” was all he managed to say.
“Oh Hemmie,” said Simone, with a wicked, happy sigh, “it will be so wonderful to hear you begging to be my little helper...”
Chapter Five
The sun was going down, and Brenda stopped to enjoy the view before she carried the logs in for the fireplace. There was something happening to her here – she could feel her life being shaped and pulled into a new direction. It wasn’t as if she’d never thought of such a thing as loving another woman, but it had never been something she felt any need to pursue.
And she had no need to pursue it now, either. It was as if she’d found the finish line in the Race to Love before she’d heard the starting gun. Instead of guilt, she found herself savoring the beauty... wanting to shout it out to the trees, to the falling sun, to anyone who would listen.
Smiling to herself, she pushed open the door with her foot and carried the logs inside and placed them on the hearth. As she stood up, a pair of hands circled her waist and drew her backwards, and felt Martha’s lips and tongue trace a line starting with her neck and moving down the length of her shoulder.
She melted and shivered, almost falling as her knees turned to rubber. Nothing—nothing—had ever affected her like this.
She turned around and kissed Martha, pressing her lips to her aunt’s with passion she’d never known she was missing, but now knew she would never be happy without. Their tongues danced, and Brenda’s mind went elsewhere... they were on a dark, rainy street, headlights passing by them, mist covering them as the tires threw water into the air. She clung to her lover for love, for safety... for everything.
As the kiss ended and she came back to earth, Brenda realized she had nearly passed out from the power of it. She still felt foggy and almost drugged as the strange, stirring images passed from consciousness to the place where dreams reside. She clung to the woman who had opened her eyes and heart.
“Martha...” she started, but words failed her.
“I know,” answered Martha. “I know. I love you, too. I didn’t try to fall in love with you, Bren. I moved here to be alone, to be away from such things, to heal my heart. But here we are,” she said.
Brenda smiled and snuggled in closer. “Yeah,” she said. “But you know... Mom isn’t going to understand... as beautiful as it is, she won’t.”
“Claire—your mom—isn’t really a problem,” said Martha. “It’s everyone else I need to talk to you about.”
The sound in Martha’s voice wasn’t unpleasant, but there was an added tension as if she had something she didn’t want to say. She waited, her eyes questioning as she pulled back slightly.
“Oh, it’s just something to mention, really. I moved here five years ago, and it took me awhile to be accepted. It was more than just being a stranger, or at least it felt that way. It took me two years to find out enough to get a picture.
“This is a really conservative place, and despite what you hear about Appalachia, they have a moral code that’s almost stifling. Like a lot of rural conservative places, it shows up mainly in two ways. Hunting and sex. And when someone comes along who doesn’t fit the mold, it can be a... problem.”
“So we’re a problem,” said Brenda. There was no hiding the dismay in her voice. It was so typical for her dreams to be dashed before they could flower fully.
Martha took the young woman’s chin in her hand and smiled gently as she continued. “No, no! Not between us, anyway. Let me finish, and maybe you’ll see that it’s not so bad.”
“Okay,” said Brenda.
“You see, this place is hyper-sensitive. About seven years ago, just before I got here as time in the country goes, a young girl named Simone was pretty much forced to leave because she was discovered with another girl. I mean run out of the valley, out of the county... banished is more like it. It was pretty ugly. The effort was headed up by the local preacher and his wife. And the banished girl really came out lucky. The other girl couldn’t take the strain and killed herself.
“No one was really happy about the situation, but also, no one defended either girl. So by the time I got here, there was a lot more distrust, mixed with guilt, added to an already healthy helping of homophobia. And while no one really cares what they can’t see, they aren’t all that welcoming to newcomers, because they don’t want to see it happen again.
“All I’m saying is that until we can find a place to go where we’re accepted, in public, you need to be my niece... not my lover.”
“Oh,” said Brenda. “I do understand.” But there was no hiding the fact that she was crestfallen. She stepped away from her aunt, who watched her with sad eyes.
“Sweetie, that doesn’t make me love you less. Didn’t you hear me? I said I want to find somewhere with you where we can live openly. I said, ‘until,’ not, ‘unless.’ For that place to be here, it would take a miracle on the order of the parting of the Red Sea. But I don’t have any ties here. Well, one, but I was kind of hoping you’d come with me.”
“You mean...” said Brenda, eyes widening with joy as the meaning of her aunt’s words dawned on her. The love and caring of the older woman overwhelmed her, and she almost leaped into Martha’s arms. “I think, um, I’d like to cum with you right now!” she squealed, squeezing her aunt’s ass and pulling their hips together.”
Martha pulled her young lover to the sofa and fell back onto it. “So much for the fire... I think we’ve already started our own anyway,” breathed her aunt, captured herself by the silky passion flowing between them.
“Doesn’t it seem strange,“ whispered Brenda as she writhed on top of Martha, making her moan as she licked the edge of her aunt’s ear. “Until last night, I’d never imagined being with a woman, not like this... and now, I can’t imagine being without you...”
Just before she surrendered all reason to her blazing desire, Martha realized with a start that she felt exactly the same way. But strange or not, she was never going to let this love, this lust... this beautiful and wondrous woman away from her side.
Chapter Six
“So how was ‘Poker With The Girls’ last night, Mare? Win anything?” asked Edward Mullins, just before he slurped another spoonful of vegetable soup. He was home for lunch... not uncommon, but today Mary was finding his presence irksome, although she wasn’t sure why.
“You know we just play Hearts, Ed.. it’s not about winning something,” said Mary with a touch of dismay. “But we did have a great time. You know, though... for us, it’s not like it’s about playing cards. It’s about being with people we enjoy. In fact, lately, cards has very little to do with it.”
“Kind of like poker is with the guys—yeah, I know,” said Ed. “I think it’s great you all do it once a week. Keeps you out of trouble, even if one or two of them are kind of loony.”
“Loony?”
“Odd, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. What do you mean?” she asked. She frowned, her voice noticeably less friendly. Ed was not scoring points.
“Jesus, Mare, I’ve said it before and you never got upset...”
He was right... it was a harmless enough thing to say, and before today she would have been nodding right along. But right now, every word was piling up and adding weight to her aggravation. She was surprised to hear the undercurrent of anger in her own voice as she spoke. “I know, but it hurts. We’re all very close. Very close. And why should it just be cards? We’re all planning on heading up to Silver Cliff tonight, as a matter of fact, for a candle party. Is there a problem, or is that too ‘loony’, Edward?”
“You’re going out again? What about my supper?” asked Ed, visibly perturbed by his wife’s tone of voice, and the way the conversation, which he’d meant to be friendly, had turned.
It was never a good sign when she used his full name.
“Did you finish all the chili last night?” she asked.
“No, but... it isn’t ‘that’ time of the month is it?”
“Then you can heat it up again tonight,” said Mary, ignoring his offensive question. “Do I have to do all of the thinking for you? Of course, if you felt up to the challenge, you might be creative, and fix a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, assuming that’s not too far beyond you. I know, I know. Asking you to actually think for yourself once in eight years is too much of me to ask.”
Ed looked at Mary in shock. He’d seen her upset, but he’d never heard anything like this from her before. “Okayyyyy, then,” he muttered as he grabbed the newspaper and stood. Speaking to no one in particular, he batted around the kitchen, getting his tool belt, coffee mug and keys. “Guess I’ll be the one fixing supper tonight. Guess I’ll have to fend for myself. Then again, maybe I’ll be at the Wet Whistle, having a few beers with the guys!“
He slammed the back door and a few moments later, squealed down the driveway.
Mary went to the front window and watched until his truck was out of view. Then she went to the phone, picked it up, and dialed. She could already feel her body relaxing, and the warmth of desire replacing her angst.
“Hi Ver, it’s me. I’ll be going tonight, too... Hmm? Oh, no, no trouble at all. Ed got a little antsy, but now that he’s gone and I’m talking to you, I feel much better. In fact... what say I come over right now? My pussy is soooooo on fire, girl...
Mary listened for a moment as she rubbed her belly with the palm of her hand.
“Ohhhh a strap-on? Ver, you have the best ideas!”
The chemical smell of permanent wave solution filled the small hair salon that was set up in the back of Debbie Taylor’s house. Wendy Templeton was having her hair done, and Debbie had spent most of the late afternoon preoccupied with trying to keep her hands from roaming down the voluptuous woman’s body.
The shampoo had been the worst... the sensual feel of slick hair in her hands as she massaged Wendy’s scalp had almost made her cum... in fact, she was already afraid Wendy had heard the small sighs and moans Debbie couldn’t hold in. Images kept flashing into her thoughts... images of Wendy naked, of running her hands over the woman’s sensitive flesh, for God’s sake... and although she’d never had such visions before, she couldn’t deny that they had soaked her panties.
And now that the only person left in the salon was Wendy, it was only getting worse. She needed to take care of things before she found herself climbing up on the arms of Wendy’s chair and forcing her slick pussy onto the poor woman’s full, sensual lips and tongue.
Debbie could feel her cheeks flushing at the thought and realized she had no idea whether it was from embarrassment or excitement. She needed to get some air.
Stumbling over her words, she excused herself and headed back into her house and then up to the bathroom on the second floor. She dropped her skirt and panties to the floor and stepped out of them before sitting on the edge of the cold cast iron tub. She pressed her fingers to her slit, letting the rude, insistent images come freely, each nastier than the last, as if she were spiraling into them headlong.
The cold enamel touching her ass made her shivers more ferocious as her fingers began sliding along each side of her swollen nub. Up and down her fingers glided, slimy and wet from the juices of her puffy nether lips—she circled her fingers around and over her raging clit every so often as her legs spasmed in helpless response. Her breath started to come in ragged, shallow huffs and sighs that pulled her onward, eroding her will to resist, obliterating anything outside of her insatiable need.
The same part of her that was shocked at her own behavior was being shaped by the taboo of her thoughts into deeper and deeper desire and lust, rocketing her awareness into a state she’d never known except in her most depraved of dreams at night.
But this was no dream... this was happening, and as her fingers reached up to unbutton her blouse, something inside clicked into place... she was no longer an observer of her own actions, but an eager, heated player in a game she couldn’t even think to understand. She nearly tore off her bra as she unhooked it, and as it fell from her shoulders, she stopped playing with her pussy long enough to squeeze her breasts together and pinch the nipples into full erection.
The burst of pleasure that went straight to her clit nearly sent her reeling backwards into the tub, and she gasped over and over as the knowledge that she was completely out of control sank in and took root.
She didn’t care. She just wanted to keep on feeling this. She just wanted to cum. She just wanted... Wendy. God, yes, she wanted Wendy like she’d never wanted anyone before in her life. How could she fight something so perfect, so natural? She licked her lips, now swollen and puffy from arousal, and moved her hand slowly back down to play with her beautiful, flowing pussy as her other hand pinched and tortured her nipples flying from breast to breast, reveling in each new sensation.
And as she whined and writhed on the verge of cumming, she heard a sound that sent her careening over the edge, unable to hold back the flood of her overwhelming release. It was a scream from the salon. Not a scream of fear or pain, but a wail of pure passion, pressing into her mind, into her soul.
Her body responded as if listening itself... and then she was listening to herself as her climax took her, along with her lover downstairs, screaming down into the depths of lust and passion... her desire like gravity itself, pulling her with irresistible force beyond the edge of thought until there was nothing but pleasure, and everything became one thing, and all there was, was cumming.
Cumming was eternal, trapped in time... an endless moment.
And then it fell away, its meaning fulfilled, its purpose accomplished.
As Debbie rose into the afterglow and bliss of her sated pleasure and fulfilled need, she could already feel it beginning again. And she knew that this time, she would be sharing it with someone she no longer had any ability to resist or deny.
She would be sharing it with Wendy.