5 comments/ 30109 views/ 72 favorites The Afflicted Ch. 02 By: ShyChiWriter Votes and comments are always appreciated. Also, please do add the story or me to your favorites list if you are so inclined. Thanks, as always, for reading. I hope you enjoy. * * * * Claude was sleeping, dreaming of a woman's lovely touch on his body. Through a haze, he could almost make out her face. "Claude," she said. "Wake up, Claude." In his dream he pried his eyes open, to see her sitting beside him. Her touch on his shoulder felt so real, so alive he almost didn't want to wake up. "Claude!" she said, louder... shaking him. Claude woke up to see it really was his mother sitting on the edge of the bed. "Good evening, sleepyhead." she said, smiling. Claude sat up, rubbing his eyes, then remembered. "Oh my god, was last night... real?" "Oui. Very real. How do you feel?" Claude took stock of himself. "Amazing," he said. "Mother, the satisfied feeling didn't go away. I still feel so alive at peace. And I slept! I could sleep another day, I think. How good this feels." "I am most gratified. Come here." She leaned over and kissed him gently. The kiss didn't enflame him so much as reassure the symbiote within him that it was still among friends and needn't fear. "Last night should carry you through a few days," his mother said, gently. "We will find a discreet time to revitalize you when the need arises. Now, get dressed and come outside. It is such a lovely night." She left and Claude dressed quickly. Climbing out on deck, he was enchanted by the view. A fair breeze was blowing, pushing the ship along at a good clip. The moon was just beginning to peak its head over the horizon and its trail of light across the gentle waves and swells made the entire scene look almost like a painting. The usual small crew was up top, just a first mate at the wheel and the two other trusted officers. As long as the wind held steady and they could stay on course, the family was allowed up top since the minimal crew could run the ship. "Good evening, Father," he said to Palo who was standing with his mother at the railing. "Good evening, Son. Good sleep, eh?" "Unbelievable." "That's good to hear," said Palo. "I spoke with the captain, he said the currents have been with us and he believes we'll be to New York in less than two weeks. "That's wonderful," said Claude. Palo and Frederique went for a stroll down toward the rear of the ship and Claude started for the front, wanting to take in more of the view. If the evening was a painting, what he saw next transformed it from a journeyman's canvas to a masterpiece. Aimée stood at the railing, looking out on the waves. The wind blew her black hair about her face. Begowned in an elegant dress, she was framed perfectly by the glimmering ocean and the rising moon. Claude must have watched her for at least five minutes before she became aware of his presence. She turned and saw him. The calm look on her face turned to one of loathing. She did not run from him, but approached him sternly. "I spoke with mother," she said, "I don't care what she says. You disgust me. I hate the very sight of you." His reply surprised her. "I understand," he said, "and I don't blame you." "What?" she asked, stunned. "You don't justify your actions?" "I cannot. But Aimée, we must find a way to somehow exist on this damned boat for the next fortnight. There is nowhere else to go." "How about opposite sides and ends of the boat?" she said. "If I am port, you are starboard. If I am fore, you are aft. I want to be as far away from you as possible." "Fair enough," he said, and walked back toward the rear of the ship. They began an awkward dance over the next few hours. Like magnets with opposite poles pointed at each other; when Aimée would approach, Claude would move away from her. When Aimée would sense him coming, she would drift elsewhere. As dawn approached, Claude was mid-ship admiring the moon which was now full and high. He stood near the hatch leading down to the crew quarters. Leaning against the deck, he was surprised when Aimée brushed right past him, going straight to the hatch. "Too close, Sister. I was here first." She ignored him, fumbling with the latch the crew hatch. "How does this work?" she muttered. "It doesn't matter, you can't go down there. That's where the crew is." "I know," she said, turning to him. There was a wild look in her eyes. "They're in there. I can smell them. I'm going to take them all. One by one, I'm going to fuck them. If they don't please me, I'll rip out their throats. If they do please, me, I'll keep them around. That first mate, he shows promise, perhaps I'll bite him and infect him. He would make a good mate, no?" "Aimée, stop kidding around," said Claude. "This is no joke, Claude. I must have them. I will have them!" She redoubled her efforts on the latch, scratching at the wood, trying to pull it up. "Mother!! Father!!" shouted Claude, "Come now! Come quick!" He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her toward the entrance to their quarters. "No!" she said "I won't go, let me have them. I must have them!!" She struggled with him, showing frightening strength. He pulled her around and clasped her to him, doing all he could to hold her at bay. "No Aimée, listen to me... it is the Affliction. It is telling you to do these things." "Bullshit! This is me! I need this. Oh Claude, you feel so good. Touch me some more. She clasped herself around him, burying her head in his neck. Frederique and Palo came dashing down the deck. Frederique seemed to take quicker stock of the situation. Palo was more confused. Claude shared a knowing glance with his mother, and then looked to the sky. "The moon," he whispered. "Merde!" said Frederique, "She is awake." "Of course she is awake," said Palo. "She is right here." "No Palo, awake!" "Mon dieu!" exclaimed Palo. "Get her below." '"No! I beg you," pleaded Aimée, "Don't put me down there again, it will kill me. I need more. I need the men. Please?!" "Come, my love," said Frederique. "We will talk more when we get to your cabin." With a parent on each arm, Aimée couldn't have escaped if she wanted to, not against the combined strength of Palo and Frederique. Claude's heart went out to her, as she whimpered between them. "No Mama, no Papa... I need things. I know it is wrong, but I must have them. I need men, Mama." "I know, Cheri but do not despair, it isn't wrong." "It's not?" she asked. "Of course not, but let's get you back to your cabin and sort this out." Claude followed them down, and watched sadly as they led her into her room and then stepped out to lock it. "Just a few minutes," said Frederique reassuringly. "We just need to talk some things over." "Don't take long, mother," Aimée pleaded. "I won't, dear." "What if she escapes?" asked Claude as Palo locked the door. "She won't," said Palo. "These are council locks. Nothing gets in or out of them." "What are we going to..." started Claude. "You are going to go to your cabin," said Frederique. "We are going to have a discussion." Claude almost argued, but caught the look from his mother which told him she would broach no contradictions. He shrugged and went into his room. He locked his door and went directly to the painting to view and listen in on his parent's conversation. The first few minutes weren't all that productive, as Frederique stormed about her cabin cursing in six or seven different languages. "I told them!" she screamed. "I told the council that we must have deplaceurs to transport us across. I told them an ocean voyage was unacceptable at this time of their lives. But no, they could not free the resources. 'What if they awaken?' I asked. 'The odds are slim' they argued. 'They are both nineteen,' I said. 'No worries,' they replied. Arrogant bastards, now look where we are." "It isn't that bad," said Palo. "Not that bad!" she screamed. "This is terrible. Did you see how close she was to the crew? What would we have done then? Dead sailors - maybe the whole crew. How much worse could this be? She must have a man." "Nonsense," said Palo. "She can wait." "Wait!?! She cannot wait!" shrieked Frederique. "Of course she can. She's a woman, it is easier. We lock the door until New York, and sort it out there." "Wrong answer, Palo. She must have a man, an Afflicted man. The first days of awakening are critical." "There are no men," said Palo, adamantly. "Yes, there are." She eyed him intently, holding her hands on her hips and glaring at him. "Oh no you don't, woman. I have warned you not to go there." "I have to go there. Give her Claude. Claude needs it too, he is...he is on the verge as well. They will help each other." "Blasphemy!" he screamed. "Blasphemy for what god? What god would create such a condition as this and deny the suffering relief?" "It is unnatural!" Palo blustered. Claude smiled at his own words echoing from his father's mouth and listened as his mother repeated her own theories. "No!" shouted Palo. "Very well," retorted Frederique. "If not Claude, then you. You go and comfort your daughter in the way she needs." "You are an abomination!" "Perhaps I am," said Frederique calmly, "but at least I am an abomination who is capable of rational thought and understanding. You. You are an abomination enfant." "Enfant!?" "Oui, a baby. Because only a baby would be so incapable of understanding..." Just then, Frederique trailed off, an angry glimmer in her face. "Yes," she muttered. "That will convince you, I am sure." "What? What are you thinking?" "You don't understand being denied these things. In the nearly fifty years we have been together, since even before our blood ceremony, I have never once denied you. Even when we've been apart, you have had partners." "That is beside the point," said Palo, turning away from her. "That is exactly the point," she said, grinning triumphantly. "If you will deny her this. I will deny you the same. You will get to see how it feels." "Like you could resist," he said, taunting her. "Oh, try me, Palo. Just try. I know. I made the journey from Europe to Morocco in the dark. Two months in basements and caves. I couldn't even fly for fear of detection. Two months with no Afflicted contact. Two months of drinking animal blood and satisfying myself with mortal men just to get through. It almost killed me, but I learned to survive. You have no chance. Now get out of my room." "Your room?" "Yes. My room. You will sleep in the storage room until you see some sense." "No, I will stay here," he raged. "You take the storage room." "We can do this two ways, Palo," she said, in a tone that frightened Claude, even through the wall. "You can go quietly, or I can force you." "You could never force me," laughed Palo. "Not physically, no. But do you really want to put yourself up against my powers? Are you so daft as to believe you would stand a chance?" They stared each other down, not blinking. It was Palo who relinquished first. "Very well, Frederique. But I keep the key to Aimée's room. I am the only one who is showing any restraint in this madness." "If you say so, now get out." Palo grabbed a blanket and pillow, and stormed out of the room. Claude heard him thunder down the hallway and slam the door to the store room. Pounding began in the room next to him. "Who was that?!" screamed Aimée from her room. "Where is everyone? Come and let me out!" She pounded on the door of room, louder and louder. Her screams rising to screeches. Claude sat on his bed, covering his ears. He heard more motions in his mother's room, then footsteps. He opened his door to see his mother walking down the hallway, a wooden box in her hand. He stayed, watching, as his mother walked to the store room and tapped sternly on the door. Palo emerged. "Back so soon?" he said, "I knew you wouldn't last." "Don't be ridiculous," said Frederique. "I need to do something to help the poor girl. You need to let me in." "Don't try anything funny," said Palo. "You can keep the fucking key, Palo. Just let me in." He did so, grumbling, and glared at Claude after he locked Frederique in as well. "What are you looking at?" he snapped. "Nothing," said Claude. He shut his door and dashed to the woman's painting, pushing the right buttons for Aimée's room. He listened intently, straining because his mother was whispering. The two sat beside each other on the bed. "I am trying to get him to see reason, dearest. Once he does, you will suffer no more. First, let me try something." Frederique leaned in and kissed Aimée tenderly on the lips. After a few seconds, Aimée pulled away. "Mother...why would you do this?" Aimée asked confusedly. "No good reason. It is as I thought. You like boys. Not that there was much doubt, but I thought I would check." "Check for what?" asked Aimée, confused. "Aimée, listen to me..." Frederique proceeded to give much the same lecture as the night before. She told Aimée of the Affliction and the needs it had. As her mother finished, the emotions playing across Aimée's face were so similar to his own, Claude had to smile. "So you see; we are in a very difficult situation. When you first awaken, your hunger is ravenous. You need to be with an Afflicted a partner who is Afflicted. "Why not ordinary men? I could sleep with some sailors." "It would only make it worse. The Affliction knows its own and would be very dissatisfied with mortals. You would have to bite them. In fact, you would have no choice." "But mother... Claude?" "Or your father." "Disgusting." "Mon dieu, I grow tired of this conversation! We are not human, daughter. We do not live by their rules and we do what we must to survive. Leave your father out of this. Think of Claude. Do you find him unattractive?" "No, I suppose he is handsome enough." "Don't suppose," said Frederique. "Concentrate - think of him with only your base instincts. Get your mind and the conservative upbringing your father has given you out of the way." Aimée tried, closing her eyes. She soon smiled. "Do you see?" asked Frederique, "He could soothe you, no?" "Oui. Let me go to him. Now." Claude felt his pulse rushing, his cock hardening at the prospect of holding Aimée in his arms. "We must wait. We will wear your father down," she said. "For now, I have some things I hope might help. Tell me Aimée, have you ever pleasured yourself? "A few times," said Aimée, blushing, "though I've never felt the need that often." "But you know how things work, yes?" "Of course, mother." "Good girl. Look in here." Frederique opened the small wooden chest to reveal the contents therein. She pulled out two cloth bags, a larger one and one smaller one. "This is very ancient." Frederique pulled a large wooden cylinder out of the first bag. "This was once attached to a statue of Priapus in Crete. Countless women have pleasured themselves with this. It has served me well. Here is some oil to help with it." Removing the next one, she showed Aimée a gorgeous glass dildo, which was amazingly lifelike. "This was made by the finest glassmaker in London. It is modeled after - well, after a very wonderful man. Last, is this." She pulled out a small silver disk, no bigger than a pocket watch. "This is a recent invention, just wind it and put it..." Palo pounded on the door, shouting. "What's taking you so long in there, woman?" "I'm almost done, brut! What does it matter to you, anyway - you won't be seeing me." She continued. "Anyway, wind this one... and touch the right place, you'll be very surprised." Frederique rose, hugging her daughter. "Aimée, I know exactly how you feel. I hope this helps, but I must warn you." "Warn me of what?" "Warn you that this will feel wonderful but it might do more harm than good when it is done." "I don't understand," said Aimée. "Just try it, see if it calms you at all." Frederique knocked on the door. "Let me out Palo." He did, Claude didn't follow the rest of their conversation, instead staying intent on watching his sister. Aimée sat upon the bed and examined the objects her mother had left. Shrugging her shoulders, she stood and removed her dress. Stripping off all of her clothing, she was beautiful in her candid environment, unaware of being watched by Claude. He was captivated by her beauty in the way it contrasted with his mother. If Frederique's body was a fruit, it might be thought of as a ripe peach... luscious and ripened to perfection. Aimée's body would be more like a nearly ready apple, holding the promise of wonderful crisp deliciousness just around the corner. She sat on the bed and chose the glass implement as her weapon of choice for her first go-round. Breathing a sigh of resignation, she let her hand brush downward. At first she explored everywhere, touching every place on her body. Claude watched with delight as Aimée massaged her clitoris and she moaned softly. She worked herself higher and higher into pleasure and then retrieved the glass tool. She contemplated it and then deliberately moved it down to the glistening opening it was meant for. She pushed it in a little way, and Claude himself gasped at what he knew was the resistance. Aimée left the tip of the glass there, just at the opening, and then began working herself again with her other fingers. She moaned and breathed faster and faster. Then he saw her gather her courage, grasp the base of the glass implement, and plunge the translucent tool in - taking her own maidenhead. A pained gasp escaped her lips, but she continued her work with her fingers. Leaving the glass cock deep within her, she started rubbing herself harder and harder. When the pleasure returned, she started working the dildo and moaning on the bed, rolling around, surrendering to this brand new pleasure for her body. He couldn't resist touching himself as he watched this exciting new adventure for his sister, and worked his cock in empathetic pleasure as she approached what he realized was to be her first climax since awakening. Her body stiffened and her eyes opened in surprise as it overtook her. "Mon dieu!" she shrieked as the pleasure surged through her. Claude would never forget that moment... nor would he forget the moments that followed. She ended the orgasm with a smile on her face, but Claude watched as that satisfied smile transformed within seconds. First, her visage altered into surprise, passed quickly into anger, and finally outrage. "This isn't what I need!" she shrieked. In one second, hours of a master craftsman's work were destroyed as she hurled the dildo against the wall. "Let me out!" she screamed, she ran to the door and pounded on it with all of her might. "Father! Palo!! I need out! I need to hunt. I need a man! You cannot deny me these things!" Through the painting, Claude adjusted his view to the floor of Aimée's cabin with concern. She was standing in the shards of glass and her feet left bloody tracks where she stood. Claude went out into the hallway to find his mother and father there as well. His sister's shrieks pierced through the door. She was no longer coherent, but had descended to angry screams and the occasional curse. The Afflicted Ch. 02 Not sure how to reveal what he had seen, Claude contemplated how to proceed. "I heard breaking glass in there," he said. "Oh no," said Frederique. "Aimée, are you hurt?" "Yes! But I don't care! Fuck that. Let me out of here!" "Aimée, please keep your voice down," pleaded Palo. "The sailors might hear." "No they won't. You said yourself our cabins were noise proof. I wish they would though. I wish they could hear me. COME HERE SAILORS. COME FUCK ME. I AM READY!!" "Go in and calm her down," Palo ordered Frederique. "I cannot. I would no longer be safe," she said. "Send Claude, he would do well at the task." "Absolutely not," said Palo. "We need to attend to her, at least," said Claude. Frederique fetched a dustpan and a small broom, as well as a pair of tweezers. "Aimée, we need you to stand away from the door." "What if I don't?!" "Aimée, dear, just do it." pleaded Frederique. Aimée called from across the room that she had moved and Palo quickly unlocked the door and tossed the items in, locking the door once again. "Now we leave her alone," said Palo. "Idiot," grumbled Frederique as the two returned to their separate rooms. Claude returned to the painting of the woman and gazed once more into Aimée's room. She had an even wilder look in her eyes. She had set about sweeping the room, in the nude, and was muttering under her breath about men, and fucking, and hunger. Finishing the floor, she sat upon the bed, examining her feet carefully. One thing that was rarely used among the Afflicted was bandages. Claude watched Aimée pull the shards of glass from her feet, and could see each wound healing as each sliver of glass was pulled. Once done with that chore, Aimée picked up the wooden dildo. She scoffed at it and tossed it the side, then did the same with the small mechanism. Claude was so concerned for her, his darling sister. He longed to go to her and comfort her; not from desire but from caring. He knew too well how she was suffering. A thought stuck him, and he put his mouth up to the listening hole. "Aimée," he whispered. She looked up curiously. "Aimée," he said a bit louder. "Claude?" she said, looking around. "Where are you?" "I'm in my room, but I've found a place where we might talk. Would you like that?" "Oh yes," she said. "I would like that very much." "Come to your wall then, try to find where my voice is coming from." He spoke constantly until she found the place, concealed directly by her mirror, where his voice was strongest. "Claude, I am so sorry," she whispered into the wall. "For what, Aimée?" "For how I treated you yesterday. Was that only yesterday?" "Yes," he said. "It does seem long ago now." "If I had only known. Oh Claude, when we were swimming. The things we could have done." "Let's not speak of that, Aimée." "Why? Don't you want to anymore?" she asked, querulous. "Of course I still want to, Aimée. But if we talk of it, we'll only dwell on it," he said, calmly. "Let us talk of other things." They began to talk of their childhood; stories of tutors, and adventures. Friends and enemies. Claude nurtured his sister through the rest of the evening and was pleased to see the clock read seven A.M., the worst was over. Frederique arrived with their daily dose. She stepped into Claude's room, giving him a tiny vial. "So small?" he inquired. "You have been taken care of in other ways," said Frederique, smiling. She kissed him passionately goodbye and then went to Aimée's room. Palo met her there with the key, and she gave him his dose. Aimée gave her no problems as Frederique slid a very large goblet through the door before Palo locked the door again. The drama of the night before had taken a toll on Aimée, and he smiled when he heard her yawn. "Are you growing tired, sister?" "Oh my, I am." she said through another yawn. "It would be so nice if I could sleep." "Try," he urged her. "Try and rest. It will pass the time if nothing else." She was soon asleep, and Claude found himself drifting off as well. Frederique's attentions had indeed been medicine for what ailed him. Though there was a faint stirring of longing beginning to grow, he again slept through the entire day. What he didn't know was it was not an easy day for Palo. Frederique's theory had been right; Palo had not understood. His Affliction, his friend had never gone without. It seemed the symbiote in his body was greatly disconcerted by being denied its usual companionship. Midway through the day, Palo came creeping down the hallway and tapped at Frederique's locked door. "Mon cher, open up. Let's stop this silliness." "That is a wonderful idea," whispered Frederique from the other side of the door. "You'll let me in?" "Absolutely, just unlock Aimée's door and let Claude go to her. Then, the silliness will be over." Palo stormed back down the hallway. Asleep or not, they were all startled into action by Aimée's screams as the sun set. Whether it could see the sky or not, the Affliction knew the sun was gone and woke with renewed hunger. "Make it stop!!" shrieked Aimée. "Help me stop it, I beg you. Claude! Papa! Sailors! Someone come to me, I need you!" Claude went to the hallway. Palo stood before Aimée's door hesitantly. Frederique leaned against the wall, watching him with a superior air. Palo's face was a fascinating study in character. The anguish he felt for his daughter's suffering was clear, yet his wavering determination also played across his features. His very beliefs were being undermined by awareness of the suffering which one could experience with their Affliction. His old beliefs won out, this time, and with a few curt words he brandished the key at Frederique and stormed up to the deck. This brought on another fit of screaming by Aimée. Claude dashed back into his room and ran to the hole to speak to her. "Aimée! Aimée! Can you hear me?" "Yes, Claude," she said, running to speak to him through the wall. "Find a way to let me out. I don't care how. Kill him. Kill father and come get me." "You know I can't do that, Aimée." "So you'd rather I die than him. I'm dying, you know? I'm sure of it." "I know it feels that way, but you'll get through this somehow. Now talk to me again, like yesterday." "I'll try - but I wish I could be there with you, talking on the bed like just a few days ago. I wish that so much." Claude heard an odd sound, almost like that of a blanket being shaken out. It was a curious whumphh, and then he heard Aimée's voice; behind him. "Claude?" Claude turned in surprise to see Aimée sitting on his bed. "Aimée?" She stood up, drawn to him with unbearable desire. She pulled him into a violent kiss, crushing her lips against his, melting her body into him. "But how did you get here?" he asked. "I wished it," she said. "That's all I know. I wished to be here, and I was. "Wait here," said Claude. He dashed down the hall to his mother's room and tapped urgently on the door. "Mama, come quickly." Without asking questions, she followed him back and stood in shock upon seeing Aimée in his room. "Did the stubborn ox relent?" "No," said Claude. "She appeared here. Just, whoosh, and she was there on my bed." "Oh!" squealed Frederique. "You are a deplaceur! You can jump from one place to another. This is so rare!" "We should tell father!" said Aimée. "That will show him what to do with his damned key. He can't keep me anywhere in the entire world now." "No!" said Frederique, adamantly. "He must learn his lesson. You can have your fun, and I'll have mine." They heard the doors opening down the hall. "Quick," whispered Frederique. "Back to your room!" "I don't know how," Aimée whispered back. "Just picture yourself in your room and wish it with all your might." Aimée tried, closing her eyes tightly and concentrating. With the same noise, she disappeared with no time to spare as Palo stuck his head into Claude's room. "What happened?" he asked. "Happened?" replied Frederique. "Why did she stop screaming? I came down to check on her, and no screaming. What happened?" "I don't know," said Frederique. "Let me out!!" screamed Aimée from behind the door. "Let me out father, I want to fuck! Let me out so I can fuck!" "There she is," said Frederique. "Must have been just a lull." Palo grunted and went back topside. "All right Aimée," said Claude loudly, as they heard the second door close. Aimée popped back into his room, Frederique pulled her into a hug. "Aimée, I am so happy for you. To be a deplaceur, it is such a rare and valuable gift. Then she chuckled slyly. "I am happy for you for other reasons, as well." "Claude," whispered his mother, "Could you give us a few minutes. Wait in the hall." Claude waited in the hallway as his mother and Aimée spoke to each other. Then Frederique asked him back in and sat the two of them down on the bed together. "This is my final lesson for the two of you," she said, quite seriously. "Before one has mated, the urge is quite strong to share blood with another. That urge is not as strong when you are with a blood-relation because the Affliction already feels an affinity. Still, in the height of pleasure, the temptation is always strong to bite before you have gone through the blood ritual. You two must not do this. Not yet. The council would be very angry if two such lovely candidates took each other to mate without their permission. Understood? "Yes, mother," said Claude. "Oui," replied Aimée. "I will keep watch as much as I can, but here is the plan. Claude, you also lock your door. You two must be as quiet as you can. Aimée, transport yourself back to your room and pretend you have been awoken if your father knocks. This nonsense will be over soon enough, but for now we must play the game. Now enjoy, my loves. Enjoy." Claude followed his mother to the door and locked it once she had left. He turned back to face Aimée and they exchanged smiles. "So..." Claude said, feeling very awkward. "So..." echoed Aimée. Claude moved closer to her, leaning in to touch his forehead against hers, their bodies just inches apart. It was her turn, now to shudder like he had in the water not even three days ago. As if of one mind, they removed their clothing and now stood before each other naked. They stepped into each other to kiss, and both grew dizzy from the contact. "Claude, can I say something?" Aimée said in a hoarse whisper. "Yes." "I know this is our first time, and I know that common sense, and romance all that says we should take our time." "But?" questioned Claude. "But I can't wait, let's save the discovery for later. Right now, I need you so badly I feel like I'm going to die if I don't feel you inside of me." "I understand," whispered Claude. He knew the longing she was feeling. He felt exactly the same. Hand-in-hand, they moved to the bed. Aimée lay down upon her back, and pulled him down to her. "Are you ready?" asked Claude. "Please Claude, don't talk. Don't hesitate, I can't wait any more." He pushed himself against her opening, and already the two of them could feel the rapture singing through their bodies. "Yes," Aimée whispered. "Yes, yes... ahh!" Aimée cried out as if in pain, but it wasn't pain. It was the overwhelming sensation of their two bodies joining, and of the Affliction crying out at its reunion with another of its kind. Tears rolled down Aimée's cheeks, but she was also smiling blissfully. "Merci Claude. Thank you. I was so...so..." "Empty?" "Yes!" whispered Aimée, smiling at the revelation. "I was empty and you have filled me. Not only down there, but in here." She took his hand and put it on her breast over her heart to show him. "You are filling me, too." replied Claude. "How can I say this? Do you know the jigsaw puzzles we used to do as children?" "Of course?" "It is like my body and soul were in pieces like a big puzzle. Yet in one motion, you have put them all together. With you here in my arms, everything makes sense. I am whole." "Hmm," pondered Aimée, smiling. "I know what you mean... but I fear I am not quite put together yet. There are still some missing pieces. Brother, would you mind helping me find where they go?" "I would be delighted to help," whispered Claude, moving within her once more. One might have thought that this first time would be full of adventures and different positions, but like Aimée had said, the time for those things was later. They were so captivated by the sensation between them they couldn't have even considered separating for a second to switch positions. There was a curious side-effect. It was as though the Affliction wanted to revel in its own joy and prolong things as much as possible. Claude found he had an endless reserve of energy and stamina. They moved together with untold joy. Aimée had many smaller orgasms, almost teasing climaxes but it was a full half hour of constant motion before Claude felt the surge begin inside of him. "Oh Aimée," he groaned. "Yes Claude," she whispered in reply. "Is it now?" "Yes." Aimée's own system sensed Claude's impending climax, and it somehow pulled out the barriers it had put in place to hold her back. She let out a hoarse moan, fighting every impulse not to scream in ecstasy as her body shook with the tremors of orgasm. Claude soon followed her into bliss, erupting within her with surge after surge of cum. It was his turn now, to weep from the profound intimacy of their union. They lay there gasping for several minutes before Claude reluctantly pulled out of her. Sated, they found a different but similar elation at the simple act of holding each other... their skin singing at the contact. "Oh, I almost forgot," said Aimée, sitting up with a start. She closed her eyes with intense concentration for a few moments, then opened them, smiling. "What was that?" asked Claude. "One of the things mother showed me. Just making sure there is no child." "You can do that?" "Mm hmm," she said as she pulled him back down to the bed, wrapping his arms around her. "I wish I could sleep here," said Aimée, whose eyes were drifting shut from the peaceful glow of finally being complete. "So do I," replied Claude, whispering his words into her ear, "but..." A loud rapping on his door interrupted him. "Claude! Aimée! Now!" Frederique's voice called through the door. "Oh no," protested Aimée. "So soon? I'll be back as soon as I can." She stood up and with a whoosh she was gone, leaving Claude sad and alone in his bed. Palo pushed open the inner door to hear Aimée screaming and pounding on her door, playing the part to the hilt. "Let me out! Let me out!! I will fuck the entire navy if I can." Palo looked to Frederique desperately. "Couldn't you drug her? Put her to sleep?" "Tonight, yes for a little while, though the Affliction would resist," replied Frederique. "Would you have me drug her for the rest of the voyage? Possibly kill her with how much it would take to keep her truly unconscious." "Just get her through the next few days, until the moon wanes," he pleaded. "It doesn't work like that." She spoke almost like one would to a young student. 'The first is the worst', that is the expression they use among our kind. Just think of how your body is already yearning, Palo. Now multiply that times ten... twenty even. She is in the thralls of base instinct and if we do not help her, she will turn quickly into a feral beast. Until she is satisfied, none of us will have rest. She might sleep during the day, but the nights will only get worse until she finds relief." "Then we won't rest, none of us. I won't have it," said Palo. "We are not beasts. We are humans." "No, we're not. We are hungry, desperate creatures when we are not satiated. You must learn that, Palo. With a huff, he returned to the storeroom. Claude had quickly donned clothes to watch the goings-on in the hallway. He had noticed a wearier look on his father's face and mentioned it to his mother. "Does he look different to you?" asked Claude. "Oh yes, he is suffering already. I'll give him until tomorrow night, maybe." Frederique moved to Claude, hugging him close and whispering in his ear. "How was it? Have you ever known anything like that?" "God, no. I envy you, having that all the time." "You will soon, darling. Never seeing the sun, this is the part that makes up for it." Her hands had been running over his chest involuntarily, and Claude became very aware of her body pressing into his. "Are you all right, Mother?" he asked, smiling. "Yes," she pulled back from him, chuckling. "It's just my own longing. One day and I'm already hungry." "Do you need anything, I mean..." "No, dearest... I will have no need of your services. Your father will return to my bed in plenty of time. But thank you." She returned to her room and Claude closed his door. Aimée's cries had been dwindling, and a few minutes later she reappeared in his room, running to him for a hungry embrace. "Aimée!" echoed his father's voice from the hall, "What's wrong!" "Excuse moi," said Aimée, rolling her eyes in frustration. She stepped back and deplaced again. Her voice came through the wall. "Why did you wake me?! I was almost asleep, you bastard! If you won't let me out, then at least have the decency to leave me alone!" "I'm sorry!" shouted her father, angrily, returning to the storeroom and slamming the door. The night had actually drifted by quickly, and there were less than two hours before sunrise. Claude whispered to Aimée through the wall. "Aimée." "Yes, Claude." "I long for you so much, but I want to breathe the air for just a little while. Would you mind?" "No, sweet one," she whispered to the wall. "Stretch your legs, regain your energy. You're going to need it." The ocean was magnificent again, the moon setting now, and had just a touch of its roundness taken away. Claude was full of happiness and completeness, with only a small touch of longing because Aimée was not at his side. He reveled in the breeze at his face and simply watched there at the rail. His mother joined him, standing beside him and letting her arm brush against his. It was as though he could feel the Affliction reaching out to say hello to her, and hers was greeting his as well. With his, it was more greeting. He could sense more desire coming from her, but nothing overwhelming. "Sometimes this is enough," she said softly. "We all go through times, when desire wanes. My first husband and I once went a full week with only touching, nothing sexual. For a mortal, that is nothing, for someone Afflicted it can be a lifetime. To us, that week was wonderful. We never made love, but we touched almost constantly. It happened accidentally. Neither one of us decided to abstain. It just seemed right at the time. It was beautiful. Of course, when we finally did make love, we fucked each other senseless, it was amazing." "Mother!" "What, does my language shock you? My boy, you will learn as you become a man that there are some things that only certain words can accurately describe. Many of those have to do with lovemaking." They strolled casually on the very small deck for the next half hour. Frederique talked for the most part, telling him about her own childhood and her family in France. "Mother," asked Claude, broaching a subject she never spoke of. "What happened to your first husband?" The Afflicted Ch. 02 Frederique paused, a pained expression on her face. Then she steeled herself and spoke. "There was a war among the Afflicted. We had a horrible man among us. He... he found a way to control people and bend them to his will. My mother and father, my brothers, and my husband Francoise were all lost in a horrible battle which took place in Paris. I assisted in winning that battle, but we had no idea how many of the enemy remained. So, I ran and I hid. That is what I've been doing ever since. Losing Francoise, it nearly killed me. I wanted to die for several days. Do you know what saved me?" "What?" "The memory of my family. Let me put it this way. When you spend time among mortals, they study each other closely. They will point to their son, and say 'He looks just like my father did at that age.' I think that is an important thing, to see your family live on through time. Among the Afflicted, we have that need satisfied in another way. Why wish to see your father reflected in your son's face, if your father will still be standing beside you two hundred years later? Yet, my family was gone. I had to honor them somehow, and so I ran. I wound up in Morocco. It was far enough away from the conflict that I knew I could find safety. The Lehris took me in. Sofia was even so kind as to lend me her husband to revive me. Then, I met your father. He was wealthy, handsome, wonderfully intelligent, and the Council approved of my taking him as a mate. Now I have him, and I have you and Aimée. I see my father in your eyes, and my brother in your chin - and elsewhere. Aimée has so much of my mother in her. I think I have honored their memories well, and today I can still see them thanks to my beautiful children." Claude stood, contemplating his mother's words. "Listen to me go on," said Frederique, brushing a few tears from her eyes. "The sun is coming; I have blood to draw; it is time we get on with things." Claude returned to his room, and was greeted almost instantly by Aimée appearing. He closed the door quickly, but didn't have time to chastise her. She was already wrapped around him, kissing his face and neck eagerly, speaking between kisses. "I missed you so much," she whispered. "All I could think about was you up there in the wind, how handsome you must look in the moonlight. I can even smell the wind in your hair, still. And the ocean! I kept thinking of the ocean and wishing we were swimming naked again. But what is this?" She had reached down to feel his very large bulge through his breeches. "Wait, Aimée..." Claude started... but she was not to be denied. She pulled down his breeches and lifted the simple cotton nightgown she was wearing. "Now!" she whispered urgently. Jumping upon him and wrapping her arms around his neck, Claude had no choice but to support her by putting his hands beneath her thighs. She lowered herself down onto his cock, purring quietly as he entered her. "Oh, that's so good," she muttered in his ear. "So wonderful, so magnifique, don't stop - promise me you'll never stop." The sounds of knocking came from the hallway. "Aimée," their father said. "It is time for your drink. I'm coming in." "I'm afraid the choice isn't mine about stopping," he said. "Damn," she said. "Be back soon." She squinted in concentration, and Claude expected to feel her gone from his arms. However, he had a curious sense of nothingness followed by a dizzy feeling; yet Aimée was still clinging to him, he was still buried deep inside her. Getting their bearings, they realized they both were now in Aimée's cabin. "Oh my god," whispered Aimée as she jumped off of him. The door was just starting to open. Aimée jumped and slammed it shut. "Get out of my sight!" she screamed. "I don't even want to see you father. You sicken me!" "Now you listen to me," shouted Palo through the door. "I'm not going to..." "Palo, darling." interrupted Frederique, "Do as she says. You are the one making her suffer. Just stand back a bit; I can contain her if needed. Just let me in and lock it behind me." Claude pulled up his breeches and squeezed behind the door, praying he wouldn't be visible through the seam. Frederique slipped in quickly and shut the door, looking in surprise at Claude. "Here you are, Aimée." she said, then mouthed "What happened?" Claude gestured to himself, then Aimée, then his room. Blinking his eyes, he indicated what had happened. "Take him back." whispered Frederique. "That's it," she said louder. "Drink it all." Aimée reached to take Claude's hand, and winked herself out of the room. Yet, Claude remained. Aimée reappeared, panicked. "How are you feeling dear?" asked Frederique. "I'm fine," said Aimée, "but I still hate father." "How did you do it before?" asked Frederique, softly. "I...oh my goodness," whispered Aimée. "Claude, come here." "What?" asked Claude. "Lay down," she said softly. Pushing him quickly to the floor, she pulled his pants down, revealing his still mostly-erect cock. She climbed atop him and, grabbed his shaft, and pulled him inside of her. Frederique watched on, amused; then spoke loudly "I also have some brandy to help you sleep better, darling. With a whoosh, Claude and Aimée were now on his bed, at which point she jumped off of him and blinked back into her own room. Claude pulled his breeches back up and waited casually, listening to the muttered words in Aimée's room. Soon enough, his mother came knocking. His father did not accompany her, as he didn't need to unlock Claude's room. "I told her to wait at least two hours," whispered Frederique. "I know how much you two want each other, but I beg you to be patient... and quiet for at least a little while. Your father is about to surrender, I can see it in his eyes. Let's not do anything to spoil that." Frederique left and Claude stripped off his clothes, pacing about his room distractedly, longing for Aimée's presence and sensing her just beyond the wall. He crossed to the woman's portrait, pushing the button which led to Aimée. If he couldn't hold her, he at least wanted to see her. He gasped at what he saw. Aimée stood in the middle of the room, preparing herself...for him, he realized. She had piled her hair on her head in gentle tumbles. Around her neck, she wore a choker of green emeralds which complimented her light brown skin perfectly. At the moment, she wore nothing else, but she was trying different things on. At first, she donned bloomers and a white corset, which pushed up her breasts wonderfully. Next, she tried on a blue nightgown which didn't reveal much, but hugged her body in stunning ways. Still not satisfied, she stripped back down to nothing and donned a pair of riding boots, and a simple leather belt around her waist. When he saw her starting to remove the belt, he whispered loudly into the listening hole. "Keep the boots." Aimée looked around, then crossed to speak into the wall. "What did you say?" she inquired. "I said keep the boots. I liked the corset, but the boots and belt are my favorite." "How did you..." she started to ask, then winked out and appeared in his room. He turned to her, smiling. "Now you know my little secret," he said. "How did you do that? Oh, let me see," she whispered, going up to the portrait. "Amazing," she said. "How often have you watched me?" "Not as often as I would have liked," he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Of course, until three days ago I wasn't all that interested in you. Not in that way." "Do you want me to go back?" she whispered, pressing her ass against his cock. "So you can watch me some more?" "No, I couldn't bear it," he said, wrapping his arms around her and cupping her breasts. "But mother asked us to wait." "Her biggest concern was that we be quiet. I can be quiet, I don't know about you." "I can be far more quiet than you, sister. I promise you that," whispered Claude into her ear. "We'll see, put it in me while you show me this contraption. They were both very new at this - but it took them surprisingly little time to find the right angle for him to enter her from behind. As he slid into her, she sighed and slid her arm around behind her head to caress his. The found a fascinating pattern, where they would work from a slow pace to a more rapid rhythm until they knew they would grow too noisy. At that point, they would cease all motion, and spend a few minutes looking into the viewer, exploring different areas round the ship. "Poor father," said Aimée, pushing the button for the store room. Palo was pacing up and down the room in only a pair of underpants. His erection struggled against the fabric. Several times, they watched him walking to the door, turning away as his hand neared the doorknob. A couple of sessions later, Aimée was peering through the viewer and smiled. "But my, that first mate is handsome." "You think so?" said Claude. "Very. If you don't please me, I might just surprise him some night by appearing in his cabin like a desert sprit. I'll mount him, only to disappear as the sun approaches." "Just like the Arabian Nights, eh?" "Exactly." "Are you saying I don't please you?" asked Claude, emphasizing his point with a deep thrust which forced a sign from Aimée. "No" she said, reaching her hands behind her to guide his hips slowly. "I am not saying that. I could never say that." She turned then, and they were pleased to find the heels on her boots placed her at just the right height for him to enter her standing. "This is good," said Claude. "No squeaky bed to worry about. No dresser to rest against." They stood like that for over half an hour, gazing into each other's eyes, daring each other to be quiet, and covering the other's mouth when that grew impossible. Claude finally surrendered and exploded inside of her, fighting a divine battle of self-control as it took every ounce of energy he had to keep from screaming with the joy of it. "I wish you had climaxed also," said Claude as his last burst finished. "I'm fine," she said softly, "Time for me, later." "No, let me try." He turned her away from him, pushing one hand downward, the other on her breast. His cum proved good lubrication and he used it well, rubbing his finger over her clit and exciting her even more by pinching her nipples. "Oh Claude," she murmured, starting to climax. "Oh Claude," she said even louder, "Oh Clau...mmph" He silenced her by moving his hand from her breast to her mouth, clamping it firmly shut as she screamed out enraptured. "Who is more quiet?" he teased her when she was done. "You are," she said, turning to kiss him passionately. "This only means I know how to enjoy myself more than you." They turned now to the ship's painting. Claude stood directly behind her, loving the feel of his entire body against hers as he showed her the tricks of the viewer, including the bell of the bugle for listening. He kissed her neck and shoulders as she explored her way around the ship. "Oh dear," said Aimée, "I said poor father, I should have said poor mother, too." "What?" asked Claude. Aimée kept watching, but handed the listener to Claude. Putting it to his ear, he heard his mother's deep and quiet moans. "My god she's beautiful," said Aimée, watching intently. "You think so?" said Claude, cautiously. She turned to him with a stern look. "You must be joking. Can you honestly tell me you don't think our mother is beautiful?" "No," confessed Claude. "She is stunning." "If I end up half as beautiful as her, I will be thrilled," she said, admiringly. "You're already to the halfway mark," said Claude, kissing her. "Thank you," she said, turning back to the viewer. "Those seins. I hope I blossom that way, I'd love to have breasts like that. Come here, be a voyeur for a little while." They switched places and Claude peaked through the viewer. Frederique was indeed putting on a show. Sitting at the edge of the bed, directly facing the mirror, she wore an open gown and was working herself with the wooden dildo. Her moans were low and earthy and her motions with the ancient tool were slow and methodical. Claude knew the look on her face and also knew her mindset. When one suffered like this, it was better to stay on the brink than deal with the wrath of the Affliction when it was disappointed by an orgasm sans partner. "Just think," whispered Aimée in his ear. "You could have watched Mother and Father... " She trailed off upon realizing Claude's secret. She turned him to face her. "Mon Dieu! You did watch them, didn't you?!" "No." he said, blushing. "You did!" "Be quiet," he hushed, "and all right, yes, I did. I watched them. Just starting from a few days ago. I only found the viewer about the same time I came awake." "That must have been so hard, truly, hard." she said, laughing. "Claude, did you ever touch yourself? Did you ever give yourself pleasure watching them?" "Yes," he said, blushing even more." "Ooh! Show me!" "No," he said, adamantly. "Please," she wheedled. "No!" he whispered even louder. "Yes. I order you. If you don't, I'm going to scream at the top of lungs. Father will discover I can deplace; we will ruin mother's plan; he will tie me up; you will be alone for the rest of the voyage. If that happens, you will be masturbating anyway, so you might as well do as I say." Claude certainly couldn't bring up the argument that he would be able to call on the services of his mother if needed. Besides, Aimée was so adorable he couldn't help but submit to her wishes. "As you wish," he said. He started to cross to his bed. "No. Right here," insisted Aimée. "Stand here, give me a show. I want to see all of you." She sat down on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest and looked up at him calmly. "Aimée, come on." he said, "I would never..." "Do it, or I scream." Sighing, he reached down and started stroking his cock slowly. Aimée watched with interest at first, but when she detected he was becoming self-conscious, she put her hand to her mouth in a fake yawn. "Boring. Do it right. Pretend I'm not here. I can tell you're holding back." "You are a harsh taskmistress." "Absolutely, now get to work." Claude began to work his cock faster, more urgently. Switching positions, Aimée moved to her knees. She wrapped her arm around his leg and kneeled there, her face inches away from his cock. "That's better. I know you mean it now." Feeling her touch also helped. He had been using shorter strokes, but he switched to longer motions. He breathed deeply, the pleasure overtaking him. Aimée leaned her head against his hip, her hand sliding up to caress his ass. "Are you close, Claude?" "Getting there." "I can't wait to watch this. I've never seen it, the spray." Just then, they heard a knock at their mother's door. Claude stopped and the two of them rushed to the viewer. Frederique was standing at her door, and opened it for Palo-who had arrived, hat-in-hand, so to speak. He looked gaunt and weak. Just the two days had taken a considerable toll on him. His Affliction was feeling lonely, desperate. It was clear in his face. "Could this be it?" asked Aimée. "I think so." "Let's listen," she whispered. "No, I think this should be between them." Claude said, seriously. It was odd, but even though he had watched his parents' sexual escapades, he felt uncomfortable eavesdropping on what was sure to be a very personal conversation. "Get back to your room; get changed; and keep your fingers crossed. As for your legs, don't cross them, keep them open, I hope to be there soon." They kissed once more and Aimée disappeared. Claude grabbed a large nightshirt out of his drawer and pulled it over his head, doing his best to will his erection down. Sooner than he expected, perhaps a quarter of an hour later, his mother knocked on his door. She stood in the doorway, radiant as ever. Palo stood behind her, sullen, but not too angry. "Claude, would you follow us please?" Claude nodded, and they moved to the next door. Palo unlocked Aimée's door and pushed it open. Aimée was sitting on her bed in the blue nightgown. She was brushing her hair innocently and the lovely vision stole Claude's heart away. "Aimée, come here please," said Frederique. She took Claude by the hand, and took Aimée's in her other hand, joining them together. "Key." she said, gesturing to Palo who handed it to her, which she in turn handed to Aimée. "Your father and I had a good talk, and he has something to say." Palo hesitated, struggling with the words which were still slow in coming to him. "These past couple of days, I was given a glimpse of you must have felt. I would like to apologize for the torture you must have been suffering. Even though it is unnatur..." "Eh hem." Frederique gave him a disapproving glance. "Even though these ideas are things I am still getting used to, I am prepared to open my mind to the fact that the Affliction creates different circumstances, and different rules than what most mortals must live by." "Therefore?" urged Frederique. "Therefore, I give you two my blessings for the remainder of the voyage, at which point..." "Eh hem." "At which point, we will...reevaluate the situation. I wish you much joy, and a good day. Come now, Frederique." Their parents departed down the hall. Sighing, Aimée closed the door, and locked it from the inside this time. Throwing down the key, she jumped into Claude's arms and kissed him. "Do you know what this means?" "It means we can make love?" said Claude. "No, silly. We were already doing that. It means; we can be loud!" * * * * They were loud. They were also quiet, and tender, and rough, and... and countless other adjectives. The sex was nearly endless. Fed by the approval of the Affliction, it gave them boundless energy and renewal. The next few days were ones of blissful discovery between the two of them. They rarely left their rooms, and when they did they were still inseparable. Around their father, they avoided displaying too much affection. With Frederique, they established a surprisingly frank relationship in very short order. It started the very next day when they forgot to lock Aimée's door. Their mother didn't bother knocking and entered with their daily dose. Aimée was currently atop Claude, lifting herself as high as possible before plunging back down on him. "Don't stop on my account," Frederique said warmly. "Well, stop for a moment so you don't spill the blood... but please don't stop." Aimée took the glass and drank it, then took Claude's and tipped it carefully into his mouth. "Good day, my children," she said, kissing Aimée on each cheek, then kissing two fingers and placing them to Claude's lips. It was the next day, in Claude's room during a nap between lovemaking, when Aimée woke him up. "Claude," she said, shaking him. "Claude, wake up." "What is it?" "Claude, you awoke before me. By two or three days, yes?" "True," he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Why do you ask?" "How did you stay so calm? The first day, I know it was difficult. I saw the look in your eyes when we were swimming. I know that look now. But when you spoke to me through the wall, and when I came into your room. You were calm; content. How did you become so content?" "Uh...simple. I pleasured myself. I masturbated." "Don't lie to me Claude. I can tell you are lying, and I also know that masturbating couldn't have truly satisfied you. I tried it myself, and..." The Afflicted Ch. 02 The pieces were falling to place in her head. "I didn't do it. Veronica could not have helped you, she is not Afflicted... MOTHER!" She shrieked in surprise, but not disgust. "Did she help you? Oh my god, Claude?" Claude nodded, red-faced. Aimée contemplated the situation and the emotions played over her face. "Well then, tell me." Red-faced. Claude described the interlude with Frederique. He tried to gloss over the details, but Aimée would have none of it. She insisted Claude give a detailed description of every moment he had spent with their mother. "So she brought you pleasure?" asked Aimée. "Yes, much pleasure." "But only with her hands?" "Oui. We never took each other... not in that way. Nor did she take me in her mouth - though based on watching her with father, she is quite amazing at that skill." "I have so much to learn,' said Aimée. "With the mouth, I have to try it. I want to bring you that sort of pleasure." She pulled him up out of bed and sat him in the lone chair in the room. Kneeling before him, she put her mouth around his cock and brought him to firmness quickly. Claude couldn't deny it was pleasurable, but it was nothing close to the paralyzing pleasure Frederique had given him with her hands, or the kind she seemed to bring their father with her mouth. Almost as if on cue, their mother entered and began gathering up clothes. "I'm taking things to the ship's laundry, I'm sure you are in dire need of fresh bed sheets." She circled around the room, picked up bits of clothing and then stripped the sheets from the bed. She paid very little mind to them... or so it seemed. "You need to use your hands, Aimée" she said, casually. "What?" asked Aimée, pulling off of Claude; gasping for breath. "Use your hands. You'll never please him enough by using just your mouth. Go on, try again, and use your hands this time. Use the fluid from your mouth as lubrication." Aimée tried again as Frederique looked on. "Good, good. But twist sometimes too. No, grasp and twist. A little more..." "Fine, fine, fine!" said Aimée, standing up. "I'm not doing it right, I understand... you show me." "What, I couldn't!" "Yes you could, and you have." Frederique looked to Claude, alarmed. "Before you go blaming Claude, I figured it out for myself," said Aimée. "But now, the mouth - please do illustrate, Mademoiselle Professor." Frederique contemplated the situation briefly, then shrugged. She put down the laundry basket; pushed the door shut; and locked it. "Your father is drinking with the captain, but we should still be quick. Not a word of this to him, either of you." They nodded. She was wearing a wide skirt and a loose top. "First, the appropriate outfit for the occasion. Unless the situation dictates otherwise, try to never have a top on when you do this. You'll see why soon." She reached down and removed her top, eliciting a look of mixed admiration and envy from Aimée. "Let us begin." She knelt down and began a master clinic on the art of fellatio, imparting nearly six centuries of knowledge to Aimée, by way of Claude. The use of the lips, of the tongue, of the teeth - she touched on each subject in her lesson. She showed Aimée at least fifty tricks with the hands; grasping the balls; twisting both hands around the shaft; rubbing the fingers across the top; pressing beneath. Aimée took mental notes of everything. For Claude, it wasn't necessarily the most pleasurable experience, as his mother kept stopping to explain things, but if one was to be teased and tormented, there were certainly worse ways "Now this is something few women can do, and I certainly expect it will take some time to perfect." Frederique performed the deep action Claude had seen her do with their father. She sent him skyward when she swallowed, her throat contracting around his shaft. Aimée sat beside him on the arm of the chair, kissing him. "Is that good?" "So good," he gasped, "You have no idea." "Then I'll learn it, as soon as I can." "Now just watch for a little while, we're making poor Claude suffer so." Frederique focused her full attention then on Claude, taking him deep into her throat while Aimée cradled his head against her chest, having a sort of empathetic joy at watching him. Pulling up and gathering her breath, Frederique looked up to her daughter. Aimée, have you yet to taste Claude's seed?" "No, not yet." "Your lover here is very close, it is time you did. I'll tell you two a secret, as much as I love what I just did, this is my favorite thing of all when it comes to oral pleasures. Frederique leaned up a little and pushed her creamy breasts against Claude's milk-chocolate colored cock, nestling it in between. Working her body up and down, she sensuously slid Claude's cock between her breasts. "I could never do that, mother," protested Aimée, "I'm not big enough to wrap around him like that." "It doesn't matter, Aimée, your breasts are more than large enough to nestle him there. I also like doing this." Making longer strokes, Frederique began letting Claude's cock emerge from the top of her breasts. Dipping her head down, she would take his tip into her mouth every time it emerged. "Now Aimée, you take him in your mouth when it appears" urged Frederique. The play in colors was a thing of beauty. Frederique's ivory breasts, Aimée's light brown skin, and Claude's darker member merged together in sexual play of hues. If Claude hadn't been near climax, the sight of his cock between Frederique's amazing breasts and his gorgeous sister taking it into her mouth at the top of each stroke surely was bound to push him overboard. Frederique detected his change in breath and encouraged her daughter. "He's nearly there, Aimée. If you can, take it in and swallow it." Aimée was certainly game, and when she felt the liquid enter her mouth she sucked fervently and swallowed nearly every drop, missing only the last burst because she thought he was done. The last spurt drizzled lazily onto her chin. Frederique stood back, smiling, while Aimée looked down greedily at Claude's cock. "Look at you, my dear friend," she laughed, speaking directly to his penis, "Still hard for me, thank you so much." "No," protested Claude, "Aimée, I couldn't right now." "I don't want motion, dear one. I just want to feel you subside while you are in me." She quickly faced away from him, sliding herself down on his slippery cock, facing her mother with a bemused grin on her face. "Thank you for the lesson mother," she said, "And I'm sure Claude and any of my future mates thank you as well." "What did you think of the taste?" "Different." Aimée replied, honestly. "By itself, I don't know if I'd recommend it... but when it came out of him, knowing what he was feeling, it was like I was tasting his joy." "I like that analogy," said Frederique. "You'll get used to the flavor, I promise. You'll grow to love it very quickly. Speaking of..." She bent down and took Aimée's chin in her fingers, scooping up the drops that were still there, then licking them from her finger. "Yes," she said, savoring the salty taste. "I promise you'll learn to love it quickly." With that, their mother kissed each of them on the forehead and took her leave. * * * * Votes and comments are always appreciated. Also, please do add the story or me to your favorites list if you are so inclined. Thanks, as always, for reading.