The Cellar Ch. 01

"That's quite a list," he laughed. "I am Incubo."

"Incubo? Like Incubus?" Sure, and she was Queen Demento, goddess of all things absurd.

"Precisely like that," he smiled. "Does that not terrify you?"

"Oddly, no... you don't terrify me, though I think I much prefer the name Lucien..." she muttered. "Come... please." She pulled back the covers and slid her body against the wall. All aboard, next stop Looneyville.

"Your name," he started.

"Jo," she interrupted.

"Yes, I am already aware of that. What does it mean?"

"It's short for Joelle," she offered, willing to play along with this nutty game of charades. Two syllables, sounds like lazy... oh yeah... crazy.

"I much prefer that, Jo sounds so... masculine."

"Fine, just don't let it get around," she quipped, "I have a rep to maintain."

"I assure you, these lips are quite sealed," he smiled.

"That's too bad." And there it was, the old trickster in her reemerging; the game player, the temptress. She regretted the words the moment they spilled from her lips.

"Take off your nightgown," he commanded, ignoring her retort.

She nodded her agreement and peeled the gown from her body.

"I'd prefer if you slept naked from now on," he uttered, running his tongue across her firm nipple.

Again there was no hesitation, just nods of unwavering accedence. Sure, why not lay naked every night, waiting for some nut job who believed to be spawned by the devil's loins? Sounds like a perfectly reasonable plan.

Lucien whipped the blanket from the bed and tossed it on the chair at its end. She was lovely, lying there completely naked with the resplendent glow of moonlight hugging her every curve. It glinted against her ivory skin like twinkling starlight. Even under its pale light, her cerulean eyes shone a brilliant sapphire.

Everything about her was pure perfection. From the curve of her hip to the bevel of her jaw, she was stunning. But that was not the cause of his attraction, though it was certainly a delicious perk.

Lucien smiled wickedly, pleased that she was now welcoming him of her own volition. "Now spread your legs."

Joelle complied without discord. Why stop now?

"I'm going to make you cum now." His hands slid assuredly up her thighs, easily finding their quarry. He smiled, feeling her heels hook over the backs of his arms, drawing his mouth closer.

"You're 'going to make me cum now'," Joelle repeated. "Okay, so let's see if you are who you say you are." Damn it, there it was again. Freakin' genie! Go back in your damn bottle already, she silently scolded.

As soon as she felt his mouth press against her, she knew he was precisely who he claimed to be. Nice to finally put a face with a tongue, she thought.

Lucien took his time coaxing every ounce of marrow from the well of her loins. No one had ever surprised him before, but on the night he first tasted her, he was beyond shocked. It exceeded his wildest expectations that someone with the sexual prowess of a hooker could be so fully stocked.

Normally he gave these women a wide berth, as they tended to be more than a little unpalatable and offered little reward for the investment of his time.

But, from the moment her scent tickled his throat he understood she was special. Just how special, was not clear until he first tasted her. Joelle possessed the most perfect blend of sin and innocence, it was enchanting.

Tonight she'd surprised him even more, for behind every orgasm brewed another. It seemed as though she'd never before reached the pinnacle of rapture, as if she had been saving it for him.

More than once he tried to pull from her, recognizing the growing strain on her body, yet it was impossible to leave. After tonight, an escape plan would be crucial.

"Fuck me," weakly she pleaded in his ear, decimated from hours of their amorous dalliances.

"No, not here," he whispered.

"Then where?" she groaned in agitation.

"Your dreams. It is best we limit these times together to simpler pleasures... 'fucking' you would be... delectably complicated."

Lucien grudgingly moved from the bed, softly kissing her panting mouth before slipping from her room.

* * *

Weeks passed, he called to her every night and yet, per his request, she resisted. When she became too desperate to sleep he would magically appear, sensing her weakening resolve. It was an awful, frustrating dance.

Yet, despite her constant frustration, she never refused to welcome him into her bed and eagerly availed herself of his generosity.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight was the fourth sleepless night in a row, and the feel of her own fingers against her clit was so utterly anticlimactic, she'd finally breached the walls of sanity.

"Stupid, jerk!" she grumbled, flipping the covers from her legs. "Beg me to come, then shoo me away!" Her feet slapped audibly against the granite floor as she stomped to the cellar door.

"You'd better be down there!" she threatened, trotting down the serpentine stairs.

"Come out!" she demanded. "You ask for me to come to you, yet you forbid me from being here. You sneak into my room and leave me strung out like a junkie... and trust me, I know what that feels like!" Her hands hastily pushed open the door, kicking it closed behind her. "You don't even have the decency to come when I need you!"

"You shouldn't have come here," he protested in a throaty growl.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! Bullshit!" she shrieked bitterly.

"You seem to quite enjoy that word. I must say, I have often struggled with its use."

"Bullshit! Bullshit! Bullshit!" she screamed.

"You really should consider expanding your repertoire of expletives, that word has become quite cloying," he cooed playfully.

"Come out, stop toying with me. Either come out now or leave me the hell alone."

"Have it your way." He was beside her within the blink of an eye. She felt her hair sweep across her neck and the intoxicating feel of his hot breath against her flesh. "Satisfied?"

"Yes." She nodded distractedly. At least he wasn't pulling that invisibility shit again.

"You really should go now," he purred, tracing his finger down her neck.

"I'd rather not," she gulped.

"Suit yourself."

A confident hand crept the length of her thigh and with a swift jerk he pulled her from the floor, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. Thick streams of her auburn hair whipped across her face as they flew across the room at a speed beyond reason.

He spilled her into the chair, hooking her legs inside its notched armrest and wrenching her hips to its edge, painfully splaying her legs. Joelle's hips screamed under the pressure, struggling against the strain for a modicum of relief.

"Do you still wish to stay?" he demanded, seeming to revel in her fear.

She nodded slowly, their eyes locked in an unbreakable stare. "I do."

"Then you leave me no choice."

The delicacy with which he rolled her nightgown beyond her waist was in stark contrast to the violent force which had brought her to rest before him. His touch was soothing and she felt her back relax, relieving some of the excruciating pressure from her hips.

His fingers teased around the edges of her vulva, drawing soft deliberate circles against her flesh. A rush of blood filled her loins and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the taunting pleasure.

A wisp of hair tickled her thigh as his tongue traced the edges of her clitoris in soft, hypnotic circles. The tightness of her muscles began to lax as he playfully toyed and tugged at it with his teeth, bearing down for just a moment to assert control.

Lucien didn't bother with delicate introductions this time, opting instead to give her what she'd come for, urgent release. He pierced her perfect flesh with four savage fingers, slamming them as deep as they would go, as he worked her clit with the tongue she so desperately desired.

There was a momentary squeal of discomfort, her muscles tightening around him, but within a tick she was grinding her hips, matching his every thrust.

Joelle's hips hitched against the force of his fingers as the heat inside her grew. Her eyes locked on his as she bore down against his hand, shuttering from orgasm. And as she held his gaze, a beautifully cool smile swept his face, acknowledging the absolute power he had over that moment.

Lucien swirled his fingers, collecting the fluids locked deep inside her walls, quickly pulling free his hand when she finally released.

He immersed his sodden fingers one by one, deep inside his mouth, rejoiced in her flavor.

His eyes returned to her face, studying her expression as beads of sweat rolled down her delicate cheeks. What, he wondered, was the payoff for her? Certainly his skills were beyond compare, but he knew with that pleasure came a level of pain, a gnawing ache, as some described it. Yet she never uttered a complaining word and seemed to enjoy their forays as much as he.

Lucien was suddenly overcome with an absolutely unfamiliar desire and pulled her from the throne he had shared with no one else. Desperately he sought her mouth, eager to indulge in its sweetness. He had not kissed a woman in more time than he could accurately measure. They never required that level of attention and thus he found it unwarranted. But regardless of that fact, he wanted to taste her mouth.

Joelle twined her tongue with his, delighting in the earthy flavor of his mouth and the essence of sex still lingering there. But the more fervent her response, the more he seemed to pull away.

Lucien had no want to release her tongue, yet the intensity of her kiss signaled a dangerous desire. Propriety dictated restraint and he gently pulled free of her insistent lips, collapsing to the chair in agitated defeat.

"Please, don't leave me like this again," she pleaded, tearing open the button of his gabardine slacks and quickly working to liberate his body.

"You need to stop this now," he insisted. Yet he made no move to thwart her efforts as she wedged herself between his legs and dropped to her knees.

Joelle eagerly rolled her tongue the length of his exceptional shaft, reveling in its massive girth. It was more spectacular than she'd imagined, and she'd imagined quite a bit. She felt his powerful hands weave through the soft strands of her hair as her mouth played around the head of his cock.

Her eyes lock on his as her tongue traced the beautiful lines of its thick head, skimming around the edges and delighting in its taste. He was sweet, strangely sweet, but in a natural, yummy kind of way.

The flavor piqued her arousal and her tongue's response was immediate. She worked to taste it all, cupping her tongue around his corona and working her lips to its very base where her mouth locked against his massive girth.

Her mouth planted firmly against the taut flesh at the base of his cock, swirling her tongue around his most sensitive spot until he groaned. Joelle's eyes stayed trained on his, delighting in her new-found power over him, aroused by his own arousal. His jaw clenched as he watched her mouth draw into a smile, inviting him in.

Satisfied he was the appropriate level of aroused, she let her tongue drift in broad, deliberate strokes across his shaft as she traversed her way up.

Joelle teased her mouth around the ridges of his glans, rolling her tongue underneath, fluttering it against its tender little spot. He was ready now and her mouth moved to take him.

But when her lips parted, engulfing the first few glorious inches of his shaft, he pulled her abruptly to her feet.

"But... I..." she stammered, feeling more than slightly offended.

She was good at giving head, screw that, she was an absolute pro at giving head. If there were awards for giving head, she'd have rows of stocked, sagging shelves. Damn it, she was the MVP in the Blowjob Super Bowl!

"No!" she barked, dropping back to her knees.

Joelle worked quickly to glide her mouth around his exquisite erection, rolling her tongue along his monumental length as she rocked her head to allow him deeper.

Her arms locked tightly around his back, sinking her nails into his flesh as he worked feebly to pry her from between his legs.

When she felt the head of his cock slam the back of her throat she coaxed him farther, tilting her head back to engulf him fully. Her tongue reached the base in advance of her lips, taunting her, and she responded, swallowing hard against its head, forcing him deep inside her throat. She held his entire length, flattening her tongue to plant him there, as her mouth sucked at the very base of his cock.

Joelle moved her tongue and mouth in contraposition, keeping him locked between her lips in a firm embrace, as she relentlessly worked the base of his cock.

It was the absolute power move and no man could resist.

Lucien groaned as she skillfully contained his entire length, but with the boundless ecstasy came the beast he struggled to contain.

Under veils of sun-kissed, auburn hair, his fingers found the contours of her jaw and broke her hold. As much as he wanted to plunge back in, he gently teased himself away from her spectacular mouth.

"Why?" she muttered. "You didn't like it?"

"Turn around," he demanded, his hands trembling against her back. What he needed, was a moment of calm, a moment to sequester the beast which lingered dangerously close to the surface. He needed her to be still.

She complied without complaint or question and felt the steely grasp of his hands around her hips, pulling her closer.

With a sudden jerk she was on his lap. The unmistakable feel of his cock nestled between her thighs, sent a chill of excitement up her spine.

Joelle arched her back as its massive head came to rest against her labia.

She kissed and nibbled at his neck, but he evaded her persistent advances, pushing her away as he studied the ceiling.

"Please Joelle, I need to take you back to your room now," his voice caught as he struggled to contain what roared from within.

"Why?" She leaned back against his chest, her mouth seeking his again.

"We cannot be together like that," he growled viciously.

"Then how? Tell me," she pleaded.

He refused to answer, leaving her no other option than to persist on her current course. She felt the head of his cock pierce her lips and rolled her hips in response, slowly working him in.

"Please Joelle... you have no idea what you're doing," he growled.

He groaned as she slid him deeper, the walls of her pussy fully swallowing his head. She swirled her hips, feeding his entire length inside her loins, gasping when she reached the base. With a few painful thrusts she found her rhythm, feeling him glide more easily now. But as she relaxed against him, enjoying the magnificence of his cock, something changed.

It felt as if it were growing, thickening, if that were even possible. She slowed to a painful crawl as its massive girth became excruciating, its extended length now painfully entrenched within her faltering walls.

Lucien began to thrust his pelvis against her ass, his arms constricting around her hips, forcing himself deeper. She screamed as his swelling girth painfully spread her beyond the realm of feasibility.

Joelle struggled to adjust, but her squirming only heightened his arousal and was met with a more insistent grasp about her waist. Sharp pains tore and ripped through her body, like a vivisection of flesh, as his dismantling force cleaved away at her very core.

He bore down on her hips with violent intensity, slamming deeper, and her muscles roared in pain as they struggled to accommodate his excessive size. The pain intensified with the urgency of his thrusts, each new wave quickly replaced by another. Joelle arched her back in an effort to broaden her hips, her head tilting against his firm chest as she sought his face with pleading eyes.

"Look away!" he commanded sharply as he plunged himself deeper.

Her head snapped forward instantly, seeming to lock in place.

Lucien's hands snaked between her heaving breasts, to her shoulders, seeking more leverage. He laced his fingers against the soft flesh at the nape of her neck, bearing down with all his force, impaling her with the fullness of his shaft. It had to hurt, the pain must have been beyond excruciating.

And as she swallowed him whole, slamming against his pelvis, the most blood curdling scream he'd ever heard exploded from her mouth. But there was no putting the monster back in its cage, once released it could not be tamed or tempered.

Lucien was far from done. He could fuck her like that for hours. He would fuck her like that for hours. It had been more than a millennium since he'd been inside a woman, killing them seemed such a tragedy, he much preferred to keep them alive. So was resigned to tease what little life they could spare from between their legs, satisfied with the tiny morsels they provided.

Joelle was a meal which could last him a month, but he had no urge to kill her. Instead, he would let the beast bring her to the very edges of death before refilling her with a small piece of her sacrifice.

With severe force, Lucien forced her head between her knees, opening her wider, impaling her more deeply, hurting her even more and yet unable to stop. She quickly became a doll between his hands, pliable, malleable, susceptible, and as much as it pained him, the beast was far beyond concern.

Viciously he twisted her body to face his, drawing her legs around his waist as her back arched against his knees, her hands falling to the floor. His eyes fixed on the perfection of her pussy as he slammed himself inside and when a trickle of blood escaped her, he quickly captured it between his fingers and let it spill into his mouth.

Joelle lay limp in his arms for hours as he ravaged her body. The world, now upside down, left her with nothing more than a dull, buzzing hum in her ears as the blood filled her brain. She'd become detached, stranded in a bizarre state of suspended animation, exiled to an alternate state of consciousness.

A hazy film covered her eyes, blurring the edges of the room until all that remained was darkness and everything ceased to exist.

The last thing she remembered was a booming roar between her breasts, the gnashing of teeth against her shoulder and a flood of molten heat inside her loins.

* * *

Mornings were usually the worst part of the day, but this morning was different, this morning required no prodding alarm clock or insistent knocking on her door. Instead, Joelle awoke to an all consuming ache coursing through her body and an agonizing pain between her legs.

She drew a hot bath and peeled the nightgown over her head, her muscles screaming their protests with every move.

"Oh my God," she wailed as she glanced herself in the mirror. The bruising was remarkable, like nothing she'd ever seen before and, as she tilted her leg to inspect her blackening hip, she noticed the blood.

"I'm broken," she whimpered as she delicately drew her finger across the throbbing flesh between her legs.

Even with the soothing heat of the bath, she was beyond salvage. Joelle decided to forgo breakfast in an effort to heal her battered body, but by lunch she found herself still unable to move. By the time dinner rolled around there seemed little point in even trying.

"Jo?" Annette's voice called from outside her closed door.

Ah Annette, Joelle thought, lovely Annette. How on earth would she explain this? After everything Annette had done for her, she went and disobeyed one of the few rules of the center: no going into the cellar. It took almost a year of Annette's insistent begging to get her into rehab and Joelle went and fucked it up before she'd even reached the program's halfway point.

"Come in," she offered cheerfully, attempting to conceal her agony.