darkness3

As the morning bells chimed, Sister Rose was sent to Jessica's room with a cup of water and a bit of bread. This would be her only food until Father Martino said otherwise, Jessica was told by the old nun, whose kindly sad eyes said that she wished things could be otherwise. Jessica was confined to her room, where she was expected to spend her day at prayer, until she saw the priest this evening. She nodded and thanked Sister Rose. After all, the poor woman wasn't at fault and really had no more control over the situation than Jessica herself had.

She ignored the bread but sipped at the water as she contemplated her escape. She checked her door and was relieved to see that it had not been locked. Why would it be? Where would they expect her to go? She would leave while everyone was gathered for mid-day prayer in the chapel. Thoughts of the chapel brought memories of last night's punishment and she could almost feel Father Martino's leather strap slapping her soft flesh again and again, bringing her to mindless pain as it raised welts upon welts and she was prepared to say anything, do anything, just to make it stop. But the pain was gone, healed by *him*, the man who had finally stepped out of the shadows. But who was he? What was he? Was he, in fact, a demon, as the priest and the nun had said?

Oh, but she wanted him. She felt a sudden sharp aching at her neck and she flinched. Then she smiled. Yes, she did want him.

"All of your pain will be pleasure with me, Jessica."

She shivered as his words came back to her.

"You shall feel my love in every touch, every slap, every bite, every kiss."

Quickly, Jessica washed her heated body and dressed. She remembered a dream of a white garden and pulled on a white linen gown, brushed her hair back, and waited, heart pounding, for the bells that would call everyone to prayer. When they rang, she watched from her window until no one remained outside, then she slipped from her room, down the corridor, and out into the warm afternoon. She crept along walls until she ran out of these, then began to run toward the iron gates.

As quietly as she could, shaking now, she opened the gates and closed them behind her, then hurried into the woods, moving, as if by instinct, until she found a pathway that she had never seen before. Not daring to stop for rest, Jessica followed the lightly trodden path for what seemed like most of the afternoon. She began to fear. Surely they would have discovered her missing and may even now be right behind her. She shuddered to imagine how she might be punished for this.

In her fear, her breaths came in short, sobbing gasps, and she thought she would weep, when, suddenly, a great vine-covered wall appeared before her. Touching her fingertips to the vines, she followed the wall until she found a gate. She pass through it, and was greeted by an intoxicating blend of scents: gardenias, white roses, lilies of the valley. White blossoms lined the garden path and white vines dipped from above. She ran her hand over the figure of a young man cast in smooth marble. The garden was filled with such likenesses and there, before her, was the fountain she had seen only in her mind, with its playful cherubs at the center.

A statue seemed to move behind her and she turned toward the movement.

It wasn't a statue, but a boy, dressed in white linen as she was. He had the palest skin and dark hair that fell defiantly across his forehead and into his eyes. His face was that of a schoolboy, all mischief and innocence, but he stood taller than Jessica. His dark eyes were guarded by the longest lashes she had ever seen and a dimple flashed at his right cheek when he smiled at her.

"My master said you would come," he said. "Come, I'm to feed you and give you wine."

He reached out his hand and she took it, and allowed him to lead her to a white wrought-iron table, on which was spread a feast of meats and cheeses and the freshest fruits.

He said, "Please, take what you want."

Her hunger became acute at the sight of so much food and she remembered how little she had eaten today. As she began to eat, the boy poured wine into a crystal goblet and handed it to her.

She held it up against the soft light of dusk, the ruby liquid almost shocking against the white backdrop.

The boy said, "Cabernet Sauvignon. Nothing but the best here. It's elegant, isn't it?"

Jessica nodded. She knew nothing of wine, but that seemed the right word for it.

She sipped. Intense flavor. She swallowed a mouthful, then turned to look at the boy again.

"I'm Peter," he said.

"I'm Jessica."

"I know."

"Do you live here?"

"I do. Drink your wine, Jessica. You're nervous. It will help."

She drank and he refilled her glass.

"Are you a servant?"

He flashed his dimpled smile and said, "Something like that."

"Where is your master?"

He gave her an odd look and said, "Resting, of course. He will join you when the sun has gone down."

"Oh...it's just that I was anxious to see him." She looked toward the fiery western sky. "He prefers the nighttime?"

The boy burst into laughter. He threw his head back as he laughed and Jessica saw the marks at his neck, then brought her hand quickly to touch those at her own. She gasped.

"Vampire!"

Oh, what a fool she was! Why had this not come to her before? What on earth had she imagined he was? She looked to the sky again; the sun was nearly down. Her heartbeat quickened. He *was* a demon!

"Jessica, don't fear," said Peter. "He loves you. I've been with him for five years. Do I look damaged in any way?"

"But, your soul!"

"With my consent, and at my master's will, my soul shall remain with his forever. And with yours, as you become his bride."

She shook her head. This was too much. How could it be?

"Drink your wine, Jessica."

Peter turned away and walked toward the great vine-covered house. Jessica watched him go, then looked at the fading sunlight, turned toward the gate, and looked toward the house again. She took a step, then stopped. Her heart pounded her indecision. Suddenly, she remembered the love she'd felt from him last night. Such love! She calmed slightly. Darkness fell.

As the full moon came to preside over the night, the white garden danced with silvery light, the flowers glowing against the surrounding darkness. Night blooms opened and perfumed the air. Jessica inhaled deeply and sighed.

He was here. She felt him. She turned.

He stood before her, a vision in a velvet suit that matched his eyes and a long white shirt, open at the throat, that hung freely over his hips, under the longish coat. Shiny black boots came nearly to his knees.

"Don't fear me, my love," he said.

"I'm not afraid."

"And don't lie to me, Jessica. You must never do that. Never withhold anything from me. I am your master now. I love you and will protect you and give you what you need."

She half-smiled and said, "I don't even know what I need. Do you?"

He strode to her and grabbed her arms, his fingers biting into her flesh, bruising her. "You need to believe in me, in us.

You need to trust me and to know that you are mine, forever, and that I will not leave you. You need to feel again."

Tears came to her eyes and she chased them away. Nothing was forever. All those she had ever loved were long gone, except for Constance, and she would probably never see her again now.

"I told you she would be yours, Jessica."

He took her hand now and led her to a bench, where he sat and stood her in front of him. Suddenly he reached out and grasped her dress at the shoulders and tore it from her warm body in one swift movement. The soft night breeze kissed her flesh and she moved her hands to cover herself from his passionate gaze. Gently, but firmly, he took her wrists and brought her hands to her sides.

"Are you going to hurt me?" she whispered.

"Yes, love. One day soon, I will bring you to me forever. But I will not do so while you fear me. You must learn to trust me, Jessica."

"But why must it hurt?"

"Because all of your love is buried so deeply within you that it cannot surface without pain. You need to feel this pain. And it is what you want."

She blushed and said, "Not, I don't."

"You lie again, Jessica."

Suddenly, his arm went around her waist and he pulled her, face-down, across his firm lap. His hand caressed her soft bottom, kneading her, before disappearing, only to land on her warm flesh again with a force stronger than the hairbrush.

"Ow! Don't!"

But his powerful hand fell again on her quaking bottom, filling the still night with a resounding *crack*. She tried to squirm away from him as he spanked her again. And again. She cried out. Then, his hand slipped between her legs and she moaned, knowing how wet she was and knowing that he now knew this too.

He asked, "Do you want me to stop spanking you?"

"Yes!"

She thought she heard laughter in his voice as he said, "What did I say to you about lying, Jessica?"

His punishing palm fell again, burning into her, harder than before, and harder still. Tears welled in her eyes and she could do nothing to stop them from falling. "Please, Master!" she cried.

"Do you want me to stop?" his calm voice asked.

"I...oh..."

She hesitated. He said her name. Love in his voice. Love in his spanking hand. Had she ever felt such love? Love and pain and pleasure, so strong, so hot. Something snapped inside of her and she yelled out.

"No! No, Master, don't stop! Please!"

Even as pain scorched her bottom over and over, and tears fell from her eyes, she screamed, "Don't stop, Master! Spank me! I need you to spank me! Make me...make me...make me feel! Make me feel!"

She began to sob. Her words became broken utterances. He stopped then and pulled her up to face him, to sit, straddled on his lap, his cool marble-like hands now rubbing her flaming bottom.

"Don't leave me, Master!"she sobbed

"I will never leave you, my love, and some day you will believe this."

Such passion in his voice. He kissed her lips, harshly, a hand going to the back of her head to hold her firmly to him. She moaned against his sensuous lips. When he broke the kiss, he brought his other hand, the one that had punished her, up to touch her tears. She held his wrist and kissed the palm of this hand, gratefully, with feeling.

He smiled at her, then raised his hand to his own mouth and used one of those sharp teeth that had marked her neck to open a small gash in his finger. He raised the finger to her lips and she took it in her mouth and sucked at it, the taste strong and bitter on her tongue. Images danced before her eyes, faraway lands, men and women in unfamiliar dress, a language, ancient and melodic, that she didn't recognize.

He stood and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. He kissed her mouth again as his hands unfastened his trousers, then his hands lifted her hips and lowered her onto his organ, slowly, gently, and easily he opened her slick passageway, until she felt the fullness of him, the incredible hardness of him, deep inside her. He began to pummel her sex and she moaned and gasped as she moved to his rhythm.

Again, she felt his vampire teeth tear into her exposed throat and draw nourishment from her. Her head swam. Her body writhed. And when the moment came, it shocked her, so strong was its force, the fever growing and growing inside of her, exploding, her body stiffening, her breathing halted, her entire being a pulsing mass of pain-filled pleasure. She screamed and collapsed against him.

"Master," she sighed.

She felt the night air again and then, somehow, they were inside a room, a fire raging nearby, glowing, warming her, and she was beside him on a huge bed, on sheets of deep red silk. The rest of the night was filled with more spankings and more bites and more sex. Her demon lover never tired. She tired, finally, and he tucked her under the covers, then stood to leave.

"Bring me with you," she said.

"Not tonight, Jessica. But I will come to you again tomorrow night. Do you believe this? And, remember, I won't tolerate lies."

Jessica lowered her eyes, then raised them to his and said, "I...I think I do. I want to believe."

He touched her cheek and said, "And when you can answer, honestly, and you believe absolutely, then you will be ready to come with me."

He kissed her lips.

"Sleep, my love. Peter will feed you and bathe you when you awake. You are free to explore the house and the gardens, but, for your own protection, I must forbid you to leave these grounds. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

He smiled at her a last time and left her. She slept without dreams and awoke to a meal such as she could not recall having eaten before in her life. Young Peter poured her bath, perfumed with sandalwood, and she felt no shyness as he caressingly washed her and rubbed oil into her skin. The house was huge, the library full of books, the grounds a joy to explore. Evening fell and her master came to her again and her world was full of the same love and pain and pleasure as it had been the first night. Days and nights followed in the same way and she lost count of how many had passed. Each time he gifted her with his blood, her senses seemed to grow stronger and her mind keener. She began to know things, to see Peter's thoughts, to sense what he felt.

"That is a part of the gift," her master explained. "It will grow stronger, but you will learn to take charge of it."

One afternoon, while Peter slept, Jessica wandered the gardens. She thought of Constance, wondered how her friend was faring, when, suddenly, she heard Constance's voice, clear as day:

"Jessica, where are you?"

Constance was afraid and Jessica felt guilty. She concentrated on her friend, tried to send a message to her mind. Instead, she found Constance's mind opening to her. She was in pain. They had accused her of helping Jessica to escape. They had punished her! More than once Constance had been dragged to the chapel to see Father Martino. Fury flashed across Jessica's heart. Without thinking, forgetting her master's only charge to her, she ran from the white garden and back toward the path in the woods.