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The Afflicted Ch. 03-04

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. 

* * * * 

CHAPTER 3 

Claude and Aimée were running about the ship. It was a game of tag and Aimée was 'it'. They needed the exercise and their father had deemed them done with swordplay for the day. Claude went rushing up the ladder to the foredeck when suddenly; it felt as though someone had grabbed him by the shirt and heaved him bodily through the air. He missed the top step by a good three feet and fell crashing to the deck. 

Aimée leapt upon him. "Tag!" she shouted, then started to run away. The look upon Claude's face made her pause. 

"Claude," what's wrong?" 

"The ladder...I didn't trip, I flew." 

"Pardon?" 

"It was like I'd jumped, but I didn't." 

"Nonsense. Stop making excuses. Tag!" 

She kissed him this time on the cheek and went racing away. She scurried down the opposite ladder and Claude went dashing after her. As he descended, it happened again. This time he went soaring away from the ladder and flew directly into her, sending them both sprawling to the hard planks. 

"Goodness Claude," said Aimée, the breath knocked out of her. "It's only a game of tag, and not that I don't want you on top of me, but father is right there." 

"Claude!" called their mother. "What just happened?" 

She crossed to them from where she'd been watching the sea. 

"I don't know mother," he stammered. "I fell. Twice. It wasn't a normal fall, though." 

"No, I saw," said Frederique. "Palo, come here!" 

Palo came from the front of the ship. 

"Palo, watch your boy." 

"What for?" 

"You'll see. Claude, that boom there; the one just out of reach. Jump up and touch it." 

Claude jumped, touching the boom easily." 

"Now look to that hook on the mast. Try and touch that." 

"But it's too high. That's a good fifteen feet off the ground. 

"Never mind, just try." 

Claude gathered his strength, crouched, and jumped. To his surprised he sailed remarkably high and quite nearly touched his goal. It felt quite remarkable to leap so high, until he realized he had to get down. Panicking, he twisted in the air and came down on his side with a frightening thump. 

"How wonderful," said Palo. "Our son will be a flyer." 

"Yes, my dear," said Frederique. 

"Let me try, now!" shouted Claude. "I will fly to the clouds and back." 

"Not so fast," said Palo. "Yes, you must start learning, but it will take time." 

"Should we go up to the crow's nest where there's more room?" 

"No, we'll begin your instruction this evening," said Palo. 

"Your father will be instructing you," said Frederique. 

"Father? But mother is..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish. 

"She is the better flier?" laughed Palo, finishing Claude's thought. 

"Yes, father." 

"It's true, she is. They say your mother could fly around the moon and still be home before sunrise, but that doesn't make her the best teacher." 

Frederique agreed. "I'm not. I get too impatient. I have always been a natural flier, and I have difficulty explaining things. Your father will do a far better job. Come Aimée, let's leave them too it. Flying your first time is difficult enough without an audience. 

As they walked to rear of the ship, Aimée looked sullen 

"I wish I could fly." 

"Oh my dear, don't despair. You may, someday. Other talents sometimes appear at later times - especially when you undergo the blood ceremony. Often you will acquire at least a portion of your partner's abilities. No need for sadness, though. You are the winner when it comes to first talents. A deplaceur, there are usually no more than fifty among all of the Afflicted. 

"Why is it so special?" 

"Think of it darling, the ability to go anywhere in a wink. If you had known what a location looked like in America, you could have skipped this voyage entirely. In one blink, you could have put yourself in the New York enclave." 

"Then why didn't the council call on their deplaceurs to get us there?" 

"There are five thousand afflicted and perhaps half a hundred who can deplace. Deplaceurs have lives too and are only called upon when absolutely needed. 

"But mother, how does one move another person? I mean, when I moved Claude he was intimately connected to me, you know?" 

"Yes, yes. Not terribly practical is it darling? Let me think, I've only done it twice, very long ago. Ah yes, I forgot. The person simply needs to be inside of the deplaceur somehow. She took Aimée's hand and wrapped it around one of her fingers. "Now, take us to your room." 

Aimée winked out, taking Frederique with her. A few moments later, they reappeared in the same spot. 

"You see, easy?" said Frederique. 

"But this concerns me. Couldn't we wind up in a wall or something?" 

"I've been told no. A friend once explained that one simply couldn't be where something else was. What else can I remember? Oh yes, sometimes one might find themselves appearing at a great height. If you are not with a flier, this of course would be bad. If this happens, one of two things should be done. First, look to the ground and see yourself there. Second, simply will yourself back to where you were before. But you have exhausted my knowledge, darling. You will receive instruction in New York, I am sure. Now, our only challenge is how to break this news to your father without letting on you knew how before. He has begrudgingly accepted you and Claude - I would hate to anger him by revealing you were sneaking around before. Now, let us spy on your brother. This is always such fun." 

They crept to a good vantage point behind a railing. 

Palo stood before Claude. "Son, flying is three simple things... but that doesn't make it easy. Lift, Collapse, and Push. The lift part is the simplest. Simply reach into your mind and find the place which allows you to lift. Many people use an image, like a hand lifting an object, or a winch. What the image is doesn't matter as long as it works for you." 

Claude struggled to find the right image, then remembered the feeling of a wave he'd had swimming with at the beach a couple of years before. The waves had been large swells that lifted him high . Recalling that feeling, he willed himself to rise. With a startling jolt, he flew off the deck and his head pounded into a mast above him. He pinned himself there, and then let the image go, coming crashing down to the floor. 

Aimée put her hand to her mouth in concerned surprise. When she saw Claude climbing off the floor, rubbing his head... she struggled to suppress a giggle, 

"This is harder than it looks," said Claude, "I'll try again." 

Claude tried modifying his image to more of a fountain, and that helped. Though he didn't have the best of starts, he soon was able to float steadily in the middle of the deck." 

"Good," encouraged Palo. "That's very good. Now for the other two parts. Collapse and push, they go together. 

"Push, I understand," said Claude. "I levitate, and then I push myself from behind and move forward. Here, let me try." 

He did, floating into the air; he envisioned a gentle hand pushing him from behind and went sliding forward in the air. 

"Very good," said Palo. "But that won't get you going very fast. The air will stop you." 

"No it won't, it's only air. Air is nothing." 

"Oh, you think so?" asked his father. "How you think birds fly? Do they push their wings against nothing? The air will be your greatest enemy if you try to push your way through it, or it will be your best ally if you use it to your advantage. Here, hold out your hand." 

Claude did, and Palo made a quick gesture with his fingers. Claude felt his hand move downward involuntarily. 

"What did I just do?" asked Palo. 

"You pushed my hand down." 

"Wrong, I collapsed the air below your hand. Once I did that, the air above actually exerted pressure from the top. Lift yourself now, move to horizontal, and focus on collapsing the air in front of you. 

Claude's father was standing directly in front of him. 

"Now," said his father patiently. See the air in front of you, at the same time push from behind, gently." 

Claude did as he was told, and suddenly he could see the air shimming before him, a million particles vibrating. He pushed them aside and felt himself drawn in that direction, then he gave a shove with his mind from behind... it was too much. He slid forward with a huge surge and pounded into his father, sending both of them sprawling into a bulkhead. 

Aimée couldn't contain herself this time, and burst out laughing uncontrollably. Frederique tried to stop her, but soon fell to laughing herself. 

"I thought you were going to give us some privacy," said Claude, though he soon was laughing as well. "Don't worry about it. Stay. Watch." 

More laughter followed at his mishaps, but Claude kept working until he could move about the deck with a certain level of proficiency. 

"How do you fly with others?" Claude asked. "When you take us for flights, how does that happen? We don't ride you. You simply hold our hands." 

"All that is really needed is a touch," said Frederique. "And...I can't describe it very well. Once you touch, they become part of your sphere." 

"Can I try with Aimée?" 

"If you are careful," Palo cautioned. "Just try lifting at first." 

Aimée climbed down took Claude's hand. Standing side by side, Claude imagined the fountain beneath both of them and lifted them easily off the ground. Seeing the air more clearly, he moved them in a gentle circle. 

"It's easier with her," said Claude as they touched back down again. 

"How do you mean?" asked Palo. 

"It just is. With her, I feel stronger, things made more sense. Perhaps it was because I had to take care of her, too. It was just easier." 

Their hands still touched, and Aimée shot him a glance which their father couldn't see. The implications of this flight thing had obviously dawned on her as they'd spun in the air. With her hand out of her father's vision, she lifted her hand, palm up slowly toward her mother and raised her eyebrows in question. 

Frederique nodded knowingly then took their father by the arm. 

"I must say, that was a very good first night's lesson and Claude should be proud of his work. I'm sure he's exhausted though, and needs his rest. 

"No, I could go on for..." 

"You really DO look tired, brother," said Aimée. "You wouldn't want to overextend yourself. Let's get you to bed." 

"Oh. Yes." said Claude, catching on and yawning. "It takes so much energy." 

They were excused and went back to Aimée's room. The fact was, it hadn't taken too much energy. While the learning curve was steep, the effort of it had taken very little out of Claude. He felt as if he could fly forever and yearned for the skies instead of the tiny cabins. 

"Strip," said Aimée. 

He had no choice and followed her orders as she did the same. 

"Lie down, in the air. Right here." 

She directed him to the center of the room and Claude levitated with his body parallel to the floor, about two feet up. She measured him against her legs. 

"Two inches down, please." 

He lowered himself down. 

"Perfect." She lifted her leg across him and grabbed his cock to guide it in as she moved downward. He had a surprise for her and pushed upward to finish impaling her the rest of the way. 

"Ooh!" she said, laughing. "This has definite possibilities." 

Combining Claude's newly gained talent with their other pursuits provided hours and hours of new enjoyment. Though they loved their newfound pleasures in the bedroom, their hours on the deck were still a welcome break from the stifling cabins. 

Their sword instruction continued, but it became a new adventure for Claude because his parents began to tutor him in the art of airborne fighting. Claude quickly discovered that working in three dimensions was amazingly more difficult. It was though he was learning fencing from square one. 

The next few days were grueling as he was drilled in the new techniques. His flying had come along incredibly easily. It seemed he had inherited his mother's natural ability. He would never forget the moment when the idea of fighting and flying suddenly clicked into place in his mind. Hanging in midair blocking blows from his father, all of the motion suddenly seemed to slow down. Palo's strikes had always been a blur to him, and he could only block and parry based on instinct and the discipline his father had drilled into him from a young age. Yet, in one moment, his father's sword was easy to see and react to. With his change in perception he started to go on the attack. It was now his father who was moving backward in the air. 

Faster and faster their blades flashed. Watching from below, Aimée sensed it first. She somehow felt it before she heard it. The 'click' Claude had felt resounded within her, and she felt a strange, shared, exultation. 

Frederique heard the noise and looked up in surprise. She smiled at the sound and said a silent "Yes." 

"What has happened?" asked Aimée. 

"He is awake now. Truly awake." 

They watched Claude and Palo circle around the crow's nest. Even their bodies were a blur as they retreated and advanced. Aimée and Frederique gasped with excitement, and cheered at times at the amazing swordplay. 

"Mon dieu, this is amazing!" exclaimed Aimée. "Could you beat Claude, mother?" 

"Oui!" said Frederique. "Today I could. In a few years, we'll see. He has amazing potential." 

Yet as amazing as Claude had suddenly become, Palo was not to be underestimated. He also had the advantage of the Affliction and much more experience than Claude. It seemed he had the upper hand as their blades flashed even faster when suddenly, inexplicably, the noise stopped and Palo's curved sword came hurtling downward, sticking into the deck of the ship. 

Claude looked to his father fearfully. Palo was a terribly competitive individual and Claude feared his wrath. They hung in midair, facing each other. 

"Yes!" said Palo, screaming with joy and pulling Claude into a fierce hug, midair. 

"You're not angry?" asked Claude, looking to him bemused. 

"Angry? The last person to disarm me, other than your mother, was more than fifty years ago. Today it is my own son who does such a thing! By god I'm proud of you boy. But don't get cocky, Claude. I know how you did it, and I'll take care to not give you such an opening again." 

They descended to the deck to the applause of Frederique and Aimée. Palo was beaming with pride and Claude was blushing from his accomplishment. 

"I'm so proud of you, Claude." said Frederique, hugging him. 

Claude turned to Aimée and kissed her passionately. The mood was so animated not even Palo seemed to notice. 

Frederique was looking to the sword in the deck thoughtfully. She took Aimée aside and whispered something quickly. Then she turned to Claude. 

"Well now Claude, you've disarmed your father. Let us see how well you manage against me." 

They saluted, and then rose into the air. 

Claude had sparred a bit with Frederique before, but this was the first all-out fight they were going to have. On the first exchange, Claude saw the difference in his mother's style. Where his father tended to fight horizontally, replacing the earthbound lunge with a quick flight forward, his mother had no limits on the direction she moved. A master flier, her swordplay meshed with her flying perfectly. Up, down, diagonal; the entire sky was her place for fighting. On one particularly heated exchange, she even spun all the way upside down and forced Claude to instantly adjust his tactics to accommodate thrusts and parries coming from an inverted sword arm. 

He felt he was acquitting himself well when his mother took a glance beneath them and suddenly moved with such rapid grace he realized she had been merely toying with him. A quick flick of her wrist, an extra push, and his sword was hurtling toward the deck directly toward Aimée! 

"Below!" screamed Claude. 

In an instant, Aimée winked out of existence - Claude's sword clanging to the deck where she'd been. 

"What happened?" called Palo, surprised. "Where did she go?" 

"I'm here!" said Aimée from the foredeck. 

"How did you get there?" 

"Play along," whispered Frederique. 

Claude gazed in amazement at his mother. Not only had she planned this, she had even timed their swordfight and disarming him for the right moment. 

They descended to the deck, and faked the discovery of Aimée's rare ability for Palo's benefit. Aimée went through the motions of learning how to deplace. 

The next evening, Aimée had been winking in and out everywhere when she made a sudden and profound realization. She walked over to the sword bin and pulled out her favorite blade, as well as a small dagger. 

"Attention, everyone. I would like to make an announcement." 

"Yes, what is it dear?" asked Frederique." 

"I would like to announce that I am officially, the finest swordfighter in our family!" 

"Oh, you think so, do you?" said Claude. 

"I know so. I will start with you and then work my way up. Come, brother," she said. "Try and best me." 

"I think I can." said Claude, smiling. 

"If you say so, but do not go easy." 

First, they sparred cautiously, looking for openings, but in a flash they engaged in a cacophony of blows. Frederique smiled to Palo with pride, as their two children seemed to be perfectly matched in sword abilities. As a young man, Claude was naturally stronger, but Aimée's superior (and now, also awakened) reflexes countered his strength and gave a perfect balance to them. 

The one advantage Claude had was flight, and he found himself subconsciously lifting away and above Aimée when she launched a particularly fierce attack. 

With his airborne ability, Claude felt he had the advantage and began circling Aimée, wearing her down then retreating away. Yet, still she seemed to be grinning with unfounded confidence. Claude saw an opening, and lunged with the intent of piercing her shoulder to disarm her. Suddenly he was off balance because his target was no longer there. 

"Hello!" he heard Aimée's voice say. He turned to see her standing on the quarterdeck. 

"How did you get there?" 

"How do you think? You can fly, no? That is your power, I am using mine." 

With that, she disappeared and the next thing Claude felt was her body against his back and her sword across his neck. 

"Hello," she said into his ear. "I would actually be saying 'goodbye' if you were an enemy." 

She dropped the sword to the deck and then disappeared again. Claude looked to see her at her father's throat, her dagger now drawn. Whoosh and she was now behind her mother, hands clasped around Frederique's neck. 

"God in heaven!" exclaimed Palo. "I had never considered the implications." 

"Deplaceurs are fearsome fighters," said Frederique. "You are very lucky, but I will warn you to be cautious, my girl. Dead is dead, and even power such as this cannot protect you from everything." 

"I understand, mother," said Aimée. "So, what will you teach me now? 

"Honestly, we can teach you nothing." 

"Oh come mother, there must be something." 

"No, not in fighting by yourself," insisted Frederique. "Just as flying changes the nature of swordplay, your gift changes everything. To take true advantage of it you will need to wait for New York and proper instruction." 

"This week has been a great success," continued Palo. "Claude has disarmed his own father, and Aimée has discovered the most amazing gift and a frightening skill when it comes to fighting. Instruction is through. We've two hours before sunrise, enjoy your time." 


The Afflicted Ch. 03-04



* * * ** 

The following evening, they emerged to a lovely sky. The captain met them on the deck with a polite smile. 

"My dear guests, I'm happy to report that we are nearing the end of our voyage. I do wish to tell you we are entering more busy seas and would request you keep your activities to the more normal variety." 

"Of course, Captain." said Frederique. 

"I also must tell you, there have been greater pirate activities reported in this quadrant. I have stationed Francois in the crow's nest in order to keep a lookout." 

"Understood," said Palo. 

"Now I will take the helm, and wish you a pleasant evening." 

The captain retreated to the enclosed cabin. 

"Damn!" muttered Claude. "I was hoping to fly this evening." 

"As was I," said Aimée, leaning against him. 

The two of them gazed up at the stars, admiring the moon shining through the low-flying clouds. 

"I have an idea," Aimée said. 

"What?" 

Aimée fixed her eyes on the sky, concentrating. Then she turned to Frederique, whispering softly. 

"Mother, since Claude can't fly, we've decided spend the night below." 

Frederique gave them a conspiratorial grin. "As you wish, children." 

Aimée took one last glance at the sky and took Claude's hand, leading him below. 

"But Aimée, even without flying, I still want the fresh air." he protested. 

"So do, I silly." 

"But...' 

"Just be quiet and come with me." 

Aimée led him into her room and then locked the door behind her." 

"There," she said, "Now they'll think we're in here. Take off your clothes." 

"Aimée..." 

"Stop arguing with me, you silly boy, and do as you are told." 

Her clothes were already off, and Claude, passion growing, could find no logic to argue against her. She surveyed him appreciatively. 

"There, that's better. Now we can have some fun." 

She pulled him close, kissing him deeply, letting her tongue dart into his mouth. With that, Claude discovered her plan. Suddenly, they were plummeting through the air, high above a cloud, Aimée grasping herself firmly to Claude's chest. 

"What did you do?" screamed Claude. 

"Fly and I'll tell you!" 

Claude gathered his wits and stopped their fall. 

"Where are we?" 

"I memorized the shaped of this cloud, and took us here. The ship is far, far below. Take us to where we can see just to make sure" 

Claude flew them to the edge and felt more at ease. The Siren was there. It looked like a child's toy from so high above and left a telltale trail across the water. 

'Now that you can really fly," Aimée said. "No one can see you here. Of course, you have to take me with you." 

"No complaints there," said Claude. "Come; let's see what life is like in a cloud. 

Taking her only by the hand, he flew them directly through the cloud. Due to their tropical latitude, it wasn't as cold as they expected, feeling a bit like the Massri's spa back home, though a bit cooler. They found themselves quickly drenched. Their skin was glistening in the dim, moonlit luminescence of the cloud. 

"You know, water makes a good lubricant," said Aimée, smiling. 

"Does it now?" 

"Oui, on the skin. It makes things slick. I like things slick. Come here." 

Claude willingly complied. They pulled into a tight embrace, reveling in the way their bodies slid together. Claude's firmness pushed tantalizingly against Aimée's leg and he found himself involuntarily pushing his way inside of her. 

"Wait," she whispered. "I want to do something first." 

She slid her way down his body, always keeping contact with him so she could keep flying. The feel of her breasts sliding down his chest made him even more stiff. She took her time arriving at her destination. Contrary to what Aimée said about her envy of Frederique's endowments, her lovely pert breasts were more than up to the job at hand. Pushing her chest into his raging erection, she began to languorously work herself up and down his shaft. Freed of the confines of gravity, she moved in long sensuous strokes. The motion of her nipples drifting across his pelvis brought its own share of pleasure to her. Responding to his moans, Aimée began working herself more and more quickly across his cock. 

"Wait," muttered Claude, trying to stop her as he grew close. 

"No," insisted Aimée, continuing her long sliding motions. Claude gasped and she felt the first throb of orgasm. Loving the feel of his hardness against her chest, she chose to keep him there. Grasping him even more tightly, she stayed motionless as burst after burst of warmness erupted onto her chest. As his shuddering subsided, she slid back up his chest, mixing his seed with the bath of water droplets they were floating in. 

The Affliction had granted Claude great powers of recovery. Not that 20-year old males generally had problems in this area, but ever since Claude had awakened the time from ejaculation to the next erection was only a minute, or less. Taking advantage of this, Aimée slid gently down onto him, loving the feel as he eased into her waiting silky chamber. She rested her head on his chest as he regained his breath and then took his head in her hands to kiss him tenderly. 

"My god we're soaking," she said, laughing as she felt his soaking hair. 

"Yes," said Claude, running his own fingers through her hair and wringing out streams of water. 

They stayed like that for several minutes, floating in their heavenly atmosphere and reveling in the affliction induced euphoria of their intimacy. Soon, Aimée shivered from the water and the temperature. 

"Are you cold?" asked Claude. 

"A little." 

"I can fly us to where it is warmer; we still probably wouldn't be seen." 

"No, I like it here," said Aimée, grinning. "I can think of other ways we can stay warm." 

"Oh, I'll heat you up." said Claude, understanding her meaning. 

They began to move together in a steady, lovely rhythm which grew in intensity. Fed by the affliction's hunger and their own youthful passion, they did not pause for nearly half an hour. Claude found himself emulating her earlier, long strokes, keeping as much contact as possible between their bodies. 

"Oh my," said Aimée, feeling the tremors begin. 

Slowing his pace only slightly, Claude pushed himself harder against her, striving to brush his pelvis against hers while also filling her completely with his hungry rod. 

"Oh my!" cried Aimée, echoing her last phrase but with more intensity. "Oh - my - God!!" she screamed, falling into bliss. Claude increased his tempo now, matching his rhythms with her cries. Louder and louder she screamed with joy, and Claude had no intention of slowing down. 

"Oh please, Claude. Stop. Stop!" 

Claude laughed as her body shuddered from one final thrust within her. 

"You are so bad," she said, kissing him. "Torturing me like that." 

"You do the same," he said, cradling her against him. 

A very short while later, he subconsciously began moving again. 

"Sorry, are you ready?" he whispered. 

"Of course," she replied. 

Something about her cries of passion, the surroundings, the secret location...perhaps all of it, something truly stirred the hunger within Claude. Keeping himself inside her, he spun Aimée around so she was facing away from him. Grasping her hips, he started pushing her away, then pulling her back into him. 

"Oh!" she cried at the impact of his thrust. 

Again, and another cry. 

Now she reached back with her hands and he took them instead. Sliding Aimée the full length of his shaft, he pushed and pulled her with greater and greater force. Soon, even that wasn't enough and Claude discovered he could push her entirely away from him, off of his cock and jerk her back onto him, sliding down the length of his shaft to slam into his body with frightening force. Her cries drove him on and he continued this motion with something akin to rage in its ferocity. He felt an unquenchable thirst growing within him and it seemed it could only be fed with more of the same. 

Aimée felt a similar lust within her. Claude's guttural grunts awakened a primal hunger within her. 

"Fuck me, Claude," she screamed. 'Fuck me', 'baiser' and every sexual word in every language she knew came spilling out of her mouth in her lust. 

Claude shifted again from his long plunges to a more urgent, rapid-fire attack within her. Both of them were screaming now in staccato bursts with each thrust. 

Something shifted within Claude and it was as though a red haze fell in front of his eyes. Forgotten was Aimée, forgotten was the ship, forgotten was even his own name. He was only an animal, and he only knew that he must conquer this woman before him. He could smell her blood. The desire within him wasn't to kill her, but to mix with her. He needed to possess her in the only way possible by taking her as a bloodmate. 

Aimée felt the change, but more than that she heard the transformation. His voice was no longer quite human, but animal-like, a snarling growl of challenge. Her own body responded and she pushed against him, inviting him to take her, a crimson veil clouding her own vision. 

She was suddenly dizzy too. What she didn't know was they were falling. In his surrender to base instinct, Claude had actually forgotten to continue flying. They were hurtling from the sky, the wind whirling them about - though they barely noticed. Like two mating eagles, they were plummeting earthward and were entirely unaware of their peril. 

Claude was nearing his explosion, and his teeth were bared. Aimée herself was ready for him to take her, to mix his blood with hers with an instinctual bite. She pushed aside her hair, baring her neck in readiness for merging with her lover. As she felt the first hot stream of cum gush inside of her, her soul thrilled in exultation at what was to come. 

However, a twist in their motion and the rushing wind suddenly caught her attention. Aimée was jolted back to her senses and recalled her mother's caution. 

She tried to deplace away from him, but they were too connected physically. All she succeeded in doing was bringing them back to the cloud where they began falling once more. She struggled and twisted about to face him to try and keep him at bay.  

Claude lowered his mouth to her neck, still a mindless being driven by primal needs. As he shot voluminously inside of this woman, he felt something stop him and angrily struggled to reach his goal. He wasn't even aware of her hands pushing him away; he only knew that something was keeping his hungry mouth at bay, pushing him from her neck. 

"Claude! No! No!" 

Suddenly he came to his senses. There was Aimée, still engulfing his cock and the warmth surrounding it told him he had climaxed. Yet the moments before all seemed like a dream from which he had only just awoken. 

"Claude! Please stop. Please!" Aimée wept. 

"I'm here. I'm here, Aimée." He righted them and stopped their fall. 

She pulled off of him. Both of their faces were pale and frightened. 

"It was the bloodlust," she said, wiping the tears of fright from her eyes. "Mother warned us, and we almost succumbed." 

"I am so sorry," said Claude. 

"No, it was me too. I forgot. I totally forgot myself. I was lost in the passion as well." 

She buried her face in his chest, shaking from fear. Claude also was frightened at the startling episode they'd just had. 

Having had a few moments to regain their composure, they looked down to the ocean, searching for their ship. 

"There's our ship." said Claude. "Mademoiselle, would you care to transport us back?" 

"Wait. That isn't the Siren," said Aimée. "Look, there are two ships, that one, and the one far ahead. The sails on this one are different. What on earth?" 

Claude took the lead now, taking her hand and flying them down to the water's surface. He had learned the knack of swift flight well and they sped rapidly across the water. As they grew closer to the mysterious ship, the smell of rum wafted over them. Suspecting the worst, they flew directly below the rear deck. Floating up, their suspicions were confirmed. The ship reeked of filth, and there above the mast flew the Jolly Roger. Much to their surprise, a drunken pirate came 'round a corner and stopped upon seeing them. In a flash, Aimée willed them back to her cabin, and the pirate could only wonder if the rum had been stronger than suspected. 

"Get dressed," said Claude. 

"All right, but we'll be in grave trouble if..." 

"Trouble makes no matter," said Claude. "Aimée, think. If that ship overtakes us by daylight, we are beyond helpless. Now, get dressed." 

* * * * 

"You what?!" demanded Palo. "After we expressly told you no flying." 

"But we couldn't have been caught," insisted Aimée. "We never flew within sight of the Siren." 

"But still, you disobeyed..." 

"Palo, my love. Let us deal with discipline later. For now, we have a very urgent matter at hand." 

A minute later, they were approaching the captain. 

"Yes, my good friends?" 

"Captain, how would you like to go for a flight?" asked Frederique. 

The captain looked taken aback, but then smiled earnestly. 

"It would be an unprecedented honor." 

* * * * 

Scarcely half-an-hour later, Frederique and the captain alighted back on the deck of the Siren. 

"By god, I have stepped into another world," said the captain. "Thank you, Frederique, I shall never forget this? 

"Well, can we outrun them?" asked Palo. 

"I sincerely doubt it," replied the captain. "She's not well kept, but she's bigger and faster than us. I know the vessel. It was made in Spain's finest shipyard and was lost perhaps two years ago." 

"I see," said Palo. "And how long before they overtake us?" 

"In this wind, I'd estimate they'd catch us mid-afternoon the day after tomorrow." 

"Palo whistled between his teeth appreciatively. 

"What would you wager our chances of besting them are?" 

"Fifty-fifty," said the Captain. "I wish it was better, but she is larger and better manned... and if they catch us during daylight, my four best fighters are no use." 

"How long until daylight?" asked Frederique. 

"Two hours, give or take," said the captain, checking his watch. 

"Fifteen minute flight there, fifteen back." said Palo. "That gives us an hour to do our work, building a margin for error." 

"Do you honestly mean to tell me the two of you could take on an entire ship? And win?" 

Frederique grinned. "The odds are a bit in our favor, captain, but we'll give them a sporting chance." 

"Not two, four." said Claude, stepping forward. 

"None of that, son." said Palo. "This is no time for..." 

"No, they should come," interrupted their mother. 

"Darling, I..." 

"Palo, please." She pulled him aside to speak in hushed tones. "If this were a battle among the Afflicted, I would say no but you've seen Claude at work. The finest sword arm you've ever seen, you said so yourself." 

Palo vacillated, but withered under her gaze. "Very well, Claude may come along, but not Aimée." 

"Why not?" 

"Because, she's a girl." 

Frederique's gaze became even more stony. "Don't make me send you back to the storeroom. 'She's a girl?. "You've seen her ability; she can outfight all three of us, and then some." 

"Besides, Papa," said Aimée, sidling up to him and batting her eyes. "I can save us a fifteen minute flight each way." 

* * * * 

The four of them gathered several minutes later. In Frederique's hand was a jar of cotton balls. 

"What is that for?" asked Claude. 

"An important precaution," explained Frederique. "There is nothing more dangerous than an Afflicted youth who hasn't mixed blood yet. As you well know, children, the Affliction wants a mate more than anything in the world. Alone, you can control it. However, if you should smell blood - true, fresh blood in great quantities, that dear friend inside of you will seize control of you in ways you never imagined. It will wish to feast and to find a mate. Stop up your noses thoroughly." 

They did as she asked. 

"Are you ready?" asked Frederique. 

Aimée looked hesitant. 

"Are you sure you can get us there?" said Palo. 

"Getting there isn't the problem, Father," said Aimée, quietly. "I can still visualize the deck and the sails. The jumping isn't the problem." 

"Then what is it?" 

"It's the killing. I've never done it, that's all." 

Palo cursed a few choice words in Arabic, but Frederique remained calm. 

"Darling, don't fear about that. It will be surprisingly easy. Just get us there and you'll be surprised at the rest. Now remember, everyone. No witnesses. No survivors. It is the law of the Afflicted and cannot be broken. Always, the secret must be kept." 

"I understand," said Aimée. 

Aimée took Palo's hand first, winked out, and in an unbelievably short time she was back and whisking Frederique into nothingness. Before Claude knew it she back with him and with a wink she wrapped her hand around his wrist and they were off. 

An instant later, they were all standing on the aft deck of the pirate ship. Looking around, they were pleased to see they had arrived undetected. Peering about with their enhanced vision, they could make out seven men on deck. One in the crow's nest, one at the wheel, and one on watch on the foredeck. The other four were asleep. 

Frederique pointed to the crow's nest, and then made a 'come here' gesture, looking to Aimée to be sure she understood. 

Aimée nodded, and almost instantaneously they saw her wink out and reappear, holding the man before her, hand clasped over his mouth. He looked at the three figures before him with a frightened and confused gaze. 

Frederique held up a silencing finger to her lips and Aimée released her clasp on his mouth. "What is your name, my good man?" whispered Frederique. 

"Michel," he whispered the man in a strong French accent. 

"Oh, you are French. I am so sorry. At least let me do this for you." 

Frederique leaned her face into the man. Stunned, he accepted her tender kiss and then his eyes opened in shocked surprise. Stepping back, Frederique revealed the poniard she had silently plunged into his neck. 

"If you had to die, at least it was at the hands of a beautiful woman, no?" she said softly. "Sleep well, my friend. Sleep well." 

The sailor slumped and Aimée lowered his dead figure to the deck. 

"Wait here," said Frederique in muted tones. She and Palo slipped over the edge of the ship and flew around the sides. Claude and Aimée saw them appear near the two other men who were awake. Palo glided slowly behind the man at the wheel, and Frederique slipped up behind the man on watch. In unison, they each grabbed their man from behind, bared his neck, and sank their teeth into the soft flesh. Though each man struggled briefly, it was soon over. Palo and Frederique lifted their heads and their faces practically glowed with the exultant strength gained from drinking the entire life from a victim. 

Claude flew, and Aimée deplaced to the side of two of the men sleeping on deck. Their parents each picked a man and with a nod from Palo, four blades plunged into four chests, snuffing out the lives instantly. 

Just as it seemed this was going to be easier than they'd thought, footsteps could be heard and the door to a cabin opened. A startled man looked out at the sight before him. 

"Alarme! Alarme! Al..." his last scream was silenced as Aimée appeared behind him, sword already thrusting as she arrived in his space. 

"Remember," said Palo, offering one final bit of advice as cries, footsteps and shouts rang from below. "Engage with swords, flee from pistols." 

With that, time for talk was over. Armed and panicked men spilled from two hatches. Palo and Aimée took one hatch, Frederique and Claude the other. The first wave of pirates had little chance, each of them felled by a blow before they could even get through the door. Eventually, by force of numbers they were able to push through over their fallen comrades and engage with the family. 




The Afflicted Ch. 03-04



Short work was made of most, though some proved to be quite able swordsmen. Claude thrilled at his first true kill, and then his second, reveling at the feel of his blade passing through the flesh. By the time he reached his fourth he was ecstatic. 

"Claude, careful!" he heard Aimée shout. 

He turned to see a man with a pistol aimed straight at him. Instantaneously he felt Aimée's arms around him and she deplaced him directly beside the man with the pistol. Dispatching him with a quick thrust, he muttered a quick thanks to Aimée. 

"Frederique, Voler! Fly!" shouted their father. "You take to the air, Claude and I will engage them on the ground. Aimée, focus on the men with guns!" 

The family proved a startlingly efficient team. Claude and Palo were now fighting back to back, their blades weaving an impenetrable mesh that the mowed down pirates like a threshing machine. Frederique made rapid passes over the heads of the pirates, both blades plunging downward wreaking deadly havoc. At the same time, she slashed through the riggings, the sails falling limp and the ship coming to a standstill. 

Frederique had another ability that she rarely demonstrated while sparring with the family. Just as she could scoop liquid into the air without touching it, she was able to control other objects. Swords flew out of sailor's hands. Casks went flying into unsuspecting fighters. In a brief moment of respite, Claude watched his magnificent mother at work and realized if she was pressed, she probably could have taken the entire ship by herself. 

Aimée winked in and out so fast she was barely visible. Men fell in her wake, pistols and blades rolling out of lifeless hands onto the deck. 

Claude was the first one injured. Pushed backward, he stumbled over a dead body which gave the man he was fighting enough of an opening to slash a huge gash into Claude's left arm. Angry at his clumsiness, Claude redoubled his efforts and dropped the man seconds later. 

"What happened?" asked Palo, looking down at Claude's arm. 

"I tripped." 

"Tripped? How do you trip when you can fly?" 

If Claude could have, he would have smacked his forehead at that point, but another man came at him and it was back into the fray. 

In what seemed like moments, the sounds of fighting dwindled to that of just two blades clashing. Claude and Aimée looked around to see it was Palo fighting a man with handsome, if scarred features. There could be no doubt that this was the captain. 

That the captain was an amazing swordsman was obvious, his blade met each of Palo's thrusts with ease. It was a marvelous thing to watch. Aimée, Claude, and Frederique gathered to watch with admiration. 

"Why doesn't Father fly?" asked Claude. 

"Honor," said Frederique. "It's one thing to use the best tools available to win a battle, but this is a duel. Your father is showing the proper respect due such a fighter." 

Soon, however, it was clear that Palo's enhanced strength and ability were winning out, and a minute later the pirate captain's sword came clattering to the deck. 

"You are a wonderful fighter," said Palo. "I thank you for the contest." 

With that, a final thrust was delivered and the ship was silent. 

Palo turned to Frederique. "How long 'til sunrise?" 

"Still an hour." 

"Good work my children?" said Palo, smiling at Claude and Aimée. "I'm very proud. How's that arm, son." 

"Perfectly fine," said Claude. His wound was nearly healed already. 

Frederique bent over the body of the captain and looked to his neck. 

"There they are," she said, removing a leather cord with several keys on it. "Let's see just how successful these pirates were." 

First, they made a sweep of the ship, seeking out any cowards still hiding. Regardless of their reputation, it seemed these pirates had at least been brave, for not a soul was found below-decks. 

In the captain's quarters, they found a small chest that contained a few hundred gold-pieces. 

"I think there must be more," said Frederique, "this would have been his payroll. Where else?" 

Getting an idea from his own cabin on the Siren, Claude crossed to the portrait on the wall behind the desk. It seemed the captain had possessed the ship for some time, because his own portrait was on the wall. It showed him standing on a dock, his foot resting on a large wooden chest. Claude ran his fingers over the painting and felt a raised edge around the chest. Pushing gently, he smiled as the wall swung open, revealing a small room with not one, but four chests filled with coins and jewels beyond anything they might have imagined. 

"Well my children," said Frederique, grinning, "it seems you will be making a good start in America even without help from your parents. Aimée, take these to your room." 

One by one, Aimée deplaced with each of the chests. As she did so, Claude assisted in spreading gunpowder from the powder kegs around the deck. Finishing the job, Palo found a cask of very strong rum and mixed it with the already volatile powder.  

"Palo, why don't you return first?" suggested Frederique. "Let the captain know we are all safe." 

Palo nodded and winked out the next moment with Aimée. 

Claude looked about the deck and was surprised to find himself more satisfied than shocked at the killing he'd done. It was sort of pre-justice in a way; these pirates would have surely destroyed them given the chance. 

He'd been breathing through his mouth this whole time and it was starting to annoy him to no end. Without even thinking he reached up and pulled the cotton from his nostrils. 

"That's better," said Claude." 

"What's better?" asked his mother, "Claude, no!" 

It was already too late. The red that had clouded his vision with Aimée was nothing compared to surge of hunger and lust that exploded in his head the next moment. 

Aimée reappeared at that very instant, smiling to him. She was calling to him. The smell of her was overwhelming. 'This is a suitable mate' his body seemed to say. 'This is the one for you.' 

"Claude, whatever is wrong?" asked Aimée. "Do you wish to go next?" 

"Aimée, get away," said Frederique. 

"But why?" 

"Do it!" 

Her mother's orders were not to be disobeyed. Not a moment too soon, Aimée winked out at the very moment Claude launched himself with a hungry roar to where she'd been standing. 

He was met mid-air by his mother who collided with him and launched them both into the sea. 

Aimée, who had leapt back to the Siren, appeared once more and could only watch from the deck helplessly as Frederique wrestled with Claude in the waves. 

"Let me go!" shouted Claude. His head had cleared just a bit with the salt water, but the smell of blood from the ship was still strong. 

"Claude! No! You mustn't. Listen to me! Tell yourself who you are! You are Claude Dujobe. You are a young man from Morocco on his way to America." 

"I am in love with Aimée!" shouted Claude. "She is mine and I will take her!" 

"You will not!" said Frederique, sternly. "It is forbidden. You must wait." 

He continued thrashing against his mother, but Frederique showed surprising strength and kept them floating there in the water. 

"Shh," whispered the mother into her son's ear. "Shh, calm yourself. Calm your hunger. You will find your mate soon enough." 

Claude tried again and again, but his fighting grew weaker and weaker. Finally, the overwhelming emotion left him weeping in his mother's arms. 

"Why? Why can't I have her!?" he sobbed. 

"Maybe someday, you never know," she said, kissing him tenderly on the forehead. 

With that kiss, a sudden shift raced through Claude's lust filled mind. 

"Why should I?" he said. "Why should I have her when you are right here?" 

Frederique hesitated for a moment, and then spoke to him tenderly. 

"Yes, if that's what you need, take me here Claude. I will not let you bite me, but if you wish, satisfy this hunger upon me." 

"I will," said Claude, "But I will taste your blood as well." 

With her abilities, Frederique could easily have thrown Claude from her. Instead, she simply isolated his head, not letting it come any closer than an inch or so to her neck or arms. Claude tried and tried, with no success. Finally he abandoned those efforts and concentrated on his purely carnal desires. 

Reaching down beneath the water, he removed his mother's bloomers and opened his breeches. 

There was no hesitation here. His already stiff member soon found his mother's warm opening. 

"That's it, my boy. Satisfy yourself. I'm here for you." 

His body sang out at the contact, and though it renewed his thirst for the full blood mating, her barrier kept him back and forced him to think only of their sexual union. She met his challenge and they started coupling with an animal-like intensity in the warm waters of the Pacific. 

Claude wanted more, so much more. He wanted to taste her breasts, her skin with his mouth. However, this simple fucking was enough for now. Not realizing it, he suddenly saw that Frederique lifted them out of the water. The loss of the water's resistance allowed them to increase their pace, which they did. 

Still keeping him at bay, Frederique spun around, keeping him inside of her all the while. They were now floating before Aimée, who watched with equal parts jealousy, awe, and horror as her lover/brother roared with base lust, slamming into their mother from behind in rapid thrusts, their bodies thudding together with an audible smack with every thrust. 

"Now," said Frederique, tightening herself around him. "Spill into me now, my boy. Relieve yourself of at least that yearning." 

Claude did. As he came he tried once more to possess his mother. Still she was too strong and his climax was one of both release, but also rage. 

As had happened in the sky, Claude's body was intent on spreading as much seed as possible. His balls tightened and his interior swelled. He roared as hot jets of cum sprayed again and again into his mother. It was too much for her to contain and huge droplets began falling from her onto the deck. She spun 'round once more and face him, hugging him to her as the worst of the bloodlust escaped him. 

Aimée had been transfixed by the raw and frightening coupling taking place before her. 

Claude and Frederique were now panting in the air. Claude especially, given his monumental orgasm, was hard put to even stay awake. 

Frederique seized this advantage and put her hand on his cheek. 

"There you are," she said gently. "You are tired now, yes?" 

"I am, but I still want..." 

"Shh..." said Frederique. 

Using a technique taught to her by the ancient Roman physician she'd mentioned to Claude when explaining the affliction, she used Galen's knowledge to reach far into Claude's mind. 

"Sleep, child," she whispered. "Sleep and find peace." 

Claude slumped into her arms and she descended to the deck. 

"Aimée. Aimée!" she said, shaking her daughter out of her trance. 

"Oui Mama," said Aimée, looking to her mother fearfully. "Mother, will he always be like this until he takes a bloodmate?" 

"I don't think so," said Frederique. "This was an unusual day in all respects. I think tenderness is the key. If you keep your activities in check, if you stay gentle, I believe you should be safe." 

"How did you... why did he..." Aimée started, then trailed off; her mind too stunned to ask the numerous questions rolling around in her head. 

"He unstopped his nose," said Frederique. "The bloodlust overtook him and because he has yet to take a blood mate he lost control. A sexual union has taken away the worst of it, and I put him into a deep sleep. He will awaken much calmer and much safer. Provided you keep things gentle, you should be safe for the rest of the voyage. 

"Mother," asked Aimée cautiously. "Why shouldn't we? Why shouldn't Claude and I take one another to mate? It's been done, yes? With brothers and sisters?" 

"It has," said Frederique calmly. "The issue is not blood relations as it is mixing the proper abilities and temperaments. Of all the council laws, this is the one I have come to respect more than any other. Our greatest monsters; Bathory; Vlad the Impaler; and certainly the horrible monster who caused the war which took my family; they were all the result of unsanctioned mating. Other than exposing our kind to mortals, there is no action that brings down greater wrath from the council than taking a bloodmate without their and blessing. Understand?" 

Aimée nodded. 

"Good, now take your brother back to his cabin then hurry back for me. Your father will start to worry." 

Aimée wrapped her hand around her sleeping brother's hand and whisked him away to his own bed aboard the Siren. 

Returning to the pirate ship, she watched with admiration as her mother scooped a stream of water from a cask she'd found to cleanse herself of Claude's great explosion. 

"How lovely it is that our men fill us like this, no?" she said, smiling. "Such fun." 

Once finished, Frederique found a wooden match near the cannon supplies. 

"It is a pity to waste such a vessel," she said, "but it is in poor enough repair that it is better to destroy it than rid it of the bodies and try to explain things." 

Lighting the match, she let if fall. As the flames spread rapidly across the deck, Aimée whisked them back to the Siren. Resting in their quarters, the first explosion of the powder on the pirate's ship shook the air for miles around. 

Aimée was terribly lonely; her Affliction was hungering for companionship after such an eventful day. She pictured herself lying with her brother, and soon found herself there, wrapped around her snoring lover. Exhausted, she too surrendered to sleep, dreaming of cloudy liaisons and fierce battles. 

* * * * 

CHAPTER 4 

Claude was asleep on his back with his hands stretched out over his head. 

Something was chipping away at the wall of sleep encompassing his mind. It was a sensation of some sort - softness - softness touching his chest and his legs. There was a weight upon him. He wasn't sure quite what it was until he felt a delicate hand grasp his already firm cock and position it so it could slide into Aimée's wet and ready interior. 

She began moving up and down upon him. As consciousness slowly took over his dreaming state, he was impressed at the way she was taking charge - doing all the work. However, it soon became too much for him. He lifted his legs for more leverage and then moved his hands to grasp her waist... 

That is to say, he tried to do those things. However, his legs wouldn't move very far and his arms wouldn't leave the position over his head. 

His eyes popped open and he became instantly awake. He tugged harder at his hands, but they wouldn't budge. Looking up, he saw they were in handcuffs which were affixed to a ring in the wall. Looking around Aimée's torso, he could see ropes around his ankles which were tied to the end of the bed. 

"Aimée, what in the hell?" 

"Mother's orders," said his smiling sister, who dipped down to teasingly almost kiss him. "After your behavior last night, she recommended this to keep you in control until I've satisfied your hungers each day." 

"But..." 

"No arguments from you, you wild young man. If mother hadn't been there, we would have become bloodmates and most probably been outlawed by the council." 

"Aimée, I'm so sorry about that." 

"Don't worry yourself Claude. It's not like we could have prepared ourselves for this. We just need to be careful. Now, for those hungers of yours. First, and most important..." 

Without even pulling off of him, she reached across him to retrieve the small vial of blood from the bedside table. As she was doing this, her breasts drifted tantalizingly close to his lips yet she pulled back as he craned his neck to reach her.  

"No, no, no," she admonished him. 

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" 

"Moi?" she said, batting her eyes innocently. "My brother, I have nothing but the highest concern for your health and also to safeguard our future. Drink." 

She held the glass container to his lips and tipped it, pouring the red fluid from their mortal blood nurse into his mouth. Claude felt the faint red tinge slip away from his mind as he became human once again. The only hunger remaining was for the need she was already feeding. As he had been drinking the blood, she'd begun squeezing his rigid cock with her silky inner walls. 

"Do you like this?" she said, bending down to whisper in his ear. 

"Oh yes, I do," he gasped as he was stretching his neck again for a kiss. 

"Oh no, not allowed," she said, lifting up again. 

"What? I can't even kiss you?" 

"Not until you can control yourself. Besides, this is incredibly fun." 

Aimée was having fun, and worked her way up and down his stiff member with amazing patience. She'd given herself a challenge to make this session last as long as possible. As she milked him with her tightness, she would dip down now and again to brush her nipples across his chest. 

"Aimée, please." 

"Please what, dear brother?" 

"Please stop tormenting me so. Fuck me, I beg you." 

His voice was hoarse, his face was taut from the tension of this denial. 

"But Claude, we must learn control," she said firmly. "If we are to be lovers for the remainder of this voyage, we must deny our strongest lusts, no?" 

"I suppose you're right - mon dieu," he moaned as she gave an extra squeeze with her inner muscles, milking a few drops of early fluid out. 

"Besides, you can't deny this is enjoyable," she said calmly as she kept up her methodical attentions. 

He could not deny that. Neither could she, however. She kept up her ministrations and a few seconds later, it was Aimée who was caught by surprise. 

"Oh Claude, oh my darling!" she cried, gasping as an unexpected orgasm exploded within her. She collapsed onto his chest and reached up to grasp his pinioned arms with her hands. She cried out into his chest and then her legs began to shake uncontrollably. She jerked her head up and grasped Claude's face in her hands. 

"I can't...I mustn't...I..." 

She couldn't even speak intelligibly as the climax overtook through her body. All she could do was stare desperately into her brother's eyes as her pussy clenched and unclenched his manhood involuntarily. 

"Oh Aimée!" he cried, her orgasm triggering the one she had been teasing from him. For him, it was a tortuous ecstasy, being unable to hold her to him during his climactic throes. 

One thing was the same as his last two times making love. Claude felt his loins tighten and a huge gush of liquid surged into his sister. The larger amount was noticeable and made both of them gasp. It happened again, but there seemed to be no subsiding with the second burst. So surprising was the volume that it brought Aimée out of the throes of her orgasm and focused entirely on the eruption happening within her. 

"Oh my, Claude! How you are filling me!" 

He was about to respond, but a third burst erupted and rendered him incapable of speech. A fourth wave of explosions followed and Claude lay gasping. 

Aimée giggled affectionately at the current dripping out of her. 

"When I say fill me up, you do just that." 

As she pulled off of him they had yet another surprise as the friction of her pulling off of him triggered yet another surge. She slid off of him and grasped his cock quickly. 

"Oh my, such an ambitious appendage you have." 

It was truly ambitious, for this was no final drip from a withering erection, but a full jet from a still-hard cock. 

"Oh my God, Claude! Oh my!" she squealed. 

Sensing his need, she kept her hand wrapped around his cock and pumped determinedly as Claude's near painful climax continued - and continued - leaving his milk-chocolate-brown chest coated in white cum by the time he was done. 




The Afflicted Ch. 03-04



Then, and only then would she release him from his bonds. Though his sexual urges were sated, for the moment, the denial of physical closeness and left him wanting and he scooped her up into a fierce embrace, squeezing her close to him and kissing her desperately. 

"That was some performance, my brother," she said when they finally felt normal again. "Perhaps you should be tied up from now on if it gets that sort of results." 

"I don't know if I could survive it. It was almost frightening in a way. With a normal climax, I often feel like I am spilling all of myself into you - with this one, it was like I would have nothing left. Now come here." 

He tipped her over onto the bed and pinned her beneath him, kissing her tenderly. 

"Claude, you mustn't..." 

"I know what mother said, but I'm safe right now - I promise you. I have no bloodlust or uncontrollable need. Yes, I need you terribly, but I know what I'm doing - I'm aware of my actions now." 

They kissed gently for several moments before hearing their mother's knock on their door. She stepped into the room to see their two naked bodies entwined. 

"But my, I have beautiful children - so beautiful. How did the restraints work?" 

They informed her it had gone well, and Claude confided in her about his quantity issue. 

"Yes, it was a lot when you spilled into me, I remember," said their mother, frankly. 

This caught Claude by surprise, it seemed an eon ago when his mother had constrained him and quelled his overwhelming lust brought on by the smell of the blood from the pirates they'd massacred. 

"Mother, I'm sorry and grateful for what you did. I want you to know that I..." 

"That you don't lust after me?" 

Claude blushed, for that wasn't exactly true. 

"Well, that you don't wish to mate with me, sweet boy," she said, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. "I know you lust after me and I take it as a compliment." 

She was wearing a low-cut frock and Claude actually had to glance away to keep from actively lusting at that very moment. 

"As for these gallons of lovely white deliciousness, there is an explanation," she said. It was time to hold another class for her two children. 

"As I think I've told you, Afflicted men do have ample volumes. It has something to do with the extreme health of the body." 

"In awakening, however, Galen the physician noted that the penis and its attached plumbing works extremely hard. It seems that Claude's lovely member is striving to impress us by putting out as much fluid as it can... it is sort of saying, 'look what I have for you, potential mates'." 

She paused for a moment and had to suppress a giggle. 

"What, mother?" asked Aimée. "What is so funny?" 

"Oh, nothing. Nothing, at all." 

"Please. What were you going to say?" 

"Very well," said Frederique, giving in. "There is a competition among certain Afflicted women to bed these boys before they find their bloodmate. They love sleeping with men who have so much to give. There is a certain phrase used, and it's quite vulgar." 

"Go on," insisted Aimée. 

"It is called 'milking the stallions'." 

Their father was quite the horseman, so the images the expression brought to their minds were quite vivid. Aimée broke down in peals of laughter at the idea of a bucket beneath her brother's lovely instrument of carnality. Claude tried to be offended at first, but couldn't help but eventually laugh as well. 

"Can you blame them, though?" chuckled Frederique. "Who could resist the novelty of so much messy, delicious fun?" 

"As for your activities, I realize it is going to be extra difficult with us cooped up here in the hold for the next week but here are the rules. When in doubt, Claude must be restrained. I will check on you two every evening to assess your state. I can sense Claude's level of desire and I will be the one to assess if he can go without restraints. One piece of advice, Claude." 

"Yes, mother?" 

"Drink as much water as you possibly can. You need to replenish all of that fluid somehow." 

Another knock came on the door. Claude and Aimée scampered to don some clothes so as not to upset their father. 

"Come then, my fine fighters," he said. "It is time to survey our spoils of war." 

They all went into Aimée's room, where she had taken the chests from the pirate ship they had conquered. Aimée examined them excitedly. 

"They are very heavy, so I can only imagine what is in them." 

"Is it more difficult?" asked Claude. "Travelling with them, deplacing both them and you?" 

"Surprisingly, no." said Aimée. "When I deplace, I am nothing and nowhere. There seems to be limits. For example, I don't think I could grab the mast of the Siren and take us all back to Morocco, but the chests and people. They are no problem." 

Palo pulled up a chair and sat in it. Frederique stood at his side. 

"Claude, Aimée, I can't tell you how relieved I am that we happened across this unlikely windfall. We now know that you will always be able to care for yourselves financially. As you know, we are well off. However, the move from Morocco cost more than we'd hoped, and it is taking longer than anticipated to divest of our assets." 

"So, you're saying we're poor?" teased Claude. 

"Mon dieu, no." said Frederique. "We are still wealthy by most standards." 

"However," said Palo, "It has always been our wish to set you up well in America." 

"Now we have this," said Frederique, gesturing to the chests. "Your father and I talked, and we decided, regardless of the contents, these should be yours to have and do with as you wish." 

"Oh, mother! That is too generous!" 

"Don't speak too soon," smiled Palo. "We've yet to open them. They might be nothing more than copper pieces. Though I doubt the captain would have hidden them so well if they were." 

Frederique produced the keys she'd taken the night before and unlocked each of the four chests, but waited to open them. With a great sense of excitement, each family member stood before a chest. Palo's was the largest, Claude and Frederique's were a matched pair, about knee-high, and Aimée's was the smallest, a more ornate chest with gold inlays. 

"One, two, three." said Palo, and they flung the chests open. 

It was not copper. 

Like a scene from a novel by Dumas, they stared down at the glistening treasures before them. 

The chest in front of Palo contained a mishmash of currencies; Spanish reales, British coins of many varieties, and the bottom was lined with Italian gold coins. 

Claude's box was more uniform, containing primarily gold ingots stamped with the royal seal of Denmark. 

"We'll have to melt those down," said Palo. "But this chest alone will buy you each a house as large as you wish to build it." 

Claude and Aimée exchanged a private glance, recalling their conversation of nearly a fortnight ago. The ramifications of a shared house had taken on an entirely new meaning. 

Frederique's treasure chest was full of silver ingots, not as valuable as the other chests but certainly spending money for more than a few years. 

Last came Aimée's little wooden chest. Once open, they all stood back in wonder at the sparkling contents within. 

"How does the phrase go?" said Frederique. "Good things come in small packages." 

There were jewels of every type. The most common were diamonds and emeralds. There was certainly a fortune in those alone, but the prize piece was a sapphire necklace with six jewels the size of a thumbnail, and a center stone which was a star sapphire as wide as a large doubloon. 

"This is a royal jewel," said Frederique, gazing on it in wonder. Such amazing, deep color and the quality is so clear. It looks like a pool in the Mediterranean." 

"You should wear it," said Aimée, holding it up to her mother's neck. 

"No, you would wear it my dear. But we must treat this stone with caution. Such a prize as this would not be unknown. It has quite likely been seen around the neck of some princess or even a queen at some point. It is best we hold it secret until we can ascertain more about it." 

* * * * 

Though they were certainly thrilled about their newly won wealth and the prospects of what it could do for them in America, there was also a sadness about this final week. Neither Claude nor Aimée spoke of it to each other, but it loomed heavily for both of them. That this time together was to be their last days of intimacy. 

Every day, Frederique would stop in on them and touch their skin - using her well-trained senses to detect whether they were safe in their lovemaking or whether Claude should be restrained. She sometimes had to suppress a grin when the two young lovers seemed somewhat disappointed when she would announce that that Claude needn't be tied up. 

How quickly they learn, she mused to herself. 

And with each day, with each moment of intimacy - the upcoming parting loomed larger and larger. Claude sought out his mother one afternoon to confess his horrible despair, and was surprised to find a weeping Aimée already with Frederique. 

"Claude, you have questions, too?" 

He nodded, fighting back his own tears as he looked at his beautiful lover resting her head in their mother's lap. 

"First, the two of you must know that no one would have ever planned it this way. Certainly, in an emergency taking comfort from a relative is condoned. However, no one would have ever recommended two young, newly-awakened siblings be asked to spend weeks together with no other options. As happens with anyone, you have begun forming a deeper bond. I know that for both of you the prospect of mating with someone else is hard to fathom." 

"It's impossible," wept Aimée. "I love Claude!" 

She sat up and looked to her brother, taking his hand. 

"Claude, I do love you. I can't bear to be with another. I'll petition the Council the moment we land. It must be us, for now and for always." 

Claude grasped her hand tighter, letting her know in that small gesture that he felt the same way. 

"Listen to me, my children," insisted Frederique. "I know that it seems that way now but I want to put this quite bluntly. You are still animals. Your Affliction is even more of an animal. When you land, you will be separated and introduced to others of our kind. Within a day or so, no matter what your heart tells you, your loins will convince you otherwise." 

"How can you say such things?" cried Aimée. "We are not beasts! We are humans! We are more than humans! We have chosen each other and that is that." 

"We have discussed this," said her mother, calmly. "It is for the Council to approve of mates and they don't often sanction sibling pairings, especially not as a first pairing. Now enjoy this last day before we reach the harbor. Don't waste any of the time you have left." 

That night, Aimée was more restless than usual. They were about to begin their union and restrain Claude when they heard their parents begin their own lovemaking session. Aimée had rarely been bold enough to watch their parents since the first time, but today she felt differently - knowing it would be her last chance to do so secretly. 

"This will be a fine warm-up," she said, crossing to the eyepiece. "Come and watch with me." 

She pressed herself against the wall to watch and Claude pressed himself against her. As they took turns at the viewer, they also worked each other into a frenzy. She pushed her shapely ass against him and he pushed his inflexible friend back into her. Clothes were off soon enough and the perspiration on their bodies served as fine lubricant as he worked his rod between her cheeks as she writhed and shoved against him. By the time their parents were spent and Frederique was sitting for her post-lovemaking oil ritual, their hearts were pounding at a furious rate and their hunger was palpable. 

"Now I will take you," she said fiercely. 

There was something in her tone that raised a small alarm in Claude's mind, but before he had a chance to react to it she had his hands cuffed and was pulling down on the ropes for his legs. 

"Aimée, perhaps we should call mother," he said, gently. 

"Call her for what? To tell us we are nothing more than farm animals? I don't think so. No, this is between us, Claude." 

She mounted him in one move and began to ride him. The look in her eyes truly frightened Claude. The look was frightening because it was familiar. His face had borne that same look in the clouds and on the pirate ship. She was succumbing to bloodlust. 

"Moth...!" 

His cry for Frederique was stifled by Aimée placing a shirt over his mouth. 

"Oh no you don't," she whispered urgently. "This will happen." 

She grabbed a silk belt from her robe and gagged Claude efficiently. 

"Don't fight this, Claude," she urged, grunting as she pumped her hips feverishly on his raging cock. "This is the only way, don't you see? We will get to New York and they will separate us and likely throw us in a cage with another animal until we are forced to mate with them. I can't lose you. I won't lose you." 

Claude was prepared to argue, but the bloodlust was overwhelming his own consciousness. All he could see was her neck. All he could smell was her blood, beckoning him to drink - to intermingle with his. 

He nodded, ceasing his struggles and dedicating as much as he could in his restricted state to meeting her thrusts. 

"Have we reached an agreement?" she said, noting the change in his eyes. 

He nodded. 

"Good." 

She reached back to free his legs to allow him more movement. She also removed his gag. They began in earnest, with Claude even adding an extra lift- piercing further and further into her. 

"Ooh, that's it," she growled. 

It truly was a growl. Her voice was different. Though she wouldn't have liked to admit it at the time, their mother's words were very true. She sounded more like a beast than a human as the primal urges surging through her body pushed her higher consciousness into a dim corner of her mind and she became more and more like a feral animal in heat. 

The hunger within them was reaching a critical level. Instinctively, they knew they would take each other when they came. 

For Claude, forgotten was Aimée's lithe body and perfect breasts. All his mind could focus on was the spot on her neck where her pulse was thumping visibly from her exertions. 

The same was true for Aimée. Though she was riding her athletic lover with carnal abandon, that was merely a necessity. It was his blood which called to her now. 

She lowered her mouth to his neck. Closer and closer, she could practically taste his red water of life spilling into her mouth. Her hips began to twist at the start of a climax and she knew it was time. Down her mouth went for the final bite which would make them one forever. 

The bite never came. As she lowered her head, her mouth was stopped not more than an inch from her target. 

Frederique had heard the growls through the wall and dashed over just in time to stop her daughter. 

Aimée shrieked in frustration. In her ravenous haze, she was unable to comprehend what was happening. She kept struggling, intent only on her brother's neck. 

"Stop it. Stop it!" said a voice from somewhere. She tried to ignore the voice but it was so insistent. 

"Aimée. You must stop!" said the voice again. 

Aimée? She knew an Aimée. It was a name she had heard many times. Oh! It was her. It was the girl she had always been but Aimée could not exist any longer. Not until she became merged with this magnificent male beneath her. 

Aimée was suddenly ripped away from him. His huge cock no longer filled her completely and she was borne, by her hair it seemed, away from him and pinned against the wall. She snarled in anger and did all she could to get away. 

Frederique contemplated what to do now. Aimée was nothing more than a wild beast and needed to be held down somehow. Meanwhile, Claude was moaning for completion and floating in the air, his cuffed hands the only thing holding him down. 

Losing the contact with Claude, Aimée began to feel a bit of her consciousness returning to her. She now knew she was Aimée again, and knew it was her mother who was holding her back. That didn't change her resolve to have her brother. She needed him desperately and was determined to wink out and lose her mother. 

Easier said than done, however. Frederique kept a firm grip on her daughter - so they both deplaced and appeared suddenly in Aimée's cabin. Aimée tried again and they were both back in with Claude.. 

"Let me go, mother," Aimée growled, insistently. 

"I don't think so, Aimée. We're so close to America. Don't ruin it now, I beg of you." 

There was a rational part of Aimée's mind which tried to listen to reason. It almost won out, but Claude groaned at that time and renewed her primitive hunger. 

"Let me have him!" she cried. 

"No!" insisted Frederique. 

"Yes!" spat Aimée. "I won't give in. This hunger can only be quenched by one thing. You can't calm me like you did Claude." 

"Oh can't I?" inquired Frederique, rising to the challenge. "Just because you aren't attracted to women doesn't mean you're immune to certain attentions. Yes, that's exactly the solution. Thank you for suggesting it." 

"But I..." 

"Shush, dear. No point in resisting. It's time for a cure - well, a temporary cure, at least." 

Aimée tried to argue a bit more, but saw that she wouldn't get anywhere trying to reason with her mother. 

Frederique was not gentle. She quickly reached down and slipped two fingers forcefully into Aimée's dripping pussy. Aimée stared at her with a stubborn look on her face, determined not to let anyone but Claude provide her with a climax. 

It wasn't easy, though. Her mother's many centuries of experience clearly wasn't limited to the male members of their species. Between her able fingers and her thumb working insistently on Aimée's already engorged clit, Aimée felt the passion returning. With the same powers that had held Claude at bay, Frederique released her hand from Aimée's neck and instead pinned her daughter to the wall with invisible force. Her hand drifted down to her daughter's pert right breast and began massing it, stirring more reluctant moans from her dangerously excited daughter. So adept was the ancient, ageless woman, she was even able to drop her mouth to Aimée's other breast and tease the nipple with her tongue while still inhibiting Aimée's movement. 

"Oh Mama," Aimée groaned as Frederique sucked practically half of her breast into her mouth while continuing to tease the sensitive nipple. 

"That's it, my girl," she said between attentions. "Surrender to this. Satisfy yourself here so we can make it to our new home safely. 

"But I want Claude," Aimée murmured between groans. 

"Like this?" inquired Frederique, shifting tactics with the hand which was ministering to Aimée's pussy. She took the two fingers and began pulsing them in and out of her daughter. 

"Yes, like that," moaned Aimée. "But he's even bigger." 

"Oh? Like this?" Frederique asked, switching to three delicate digits which both filled and stretched out Aimée's tight, hungry pussy. 

"Oh yes," moaned Aimée, her body beginning to shudder - involuntarily or voluntarily - it didn't matter now, she had surrendered. 

Frederique had also been pinning Aimée's arms to the wall with her gift. Now, she released them. Aimée did just as she hoped, pushing one hand down to massage the swollen clit her mother was no longer touching. 

"Oh Mama. Oui Mama," groaned Aimée as she took her other hand and caressed the back of Frederique's head. Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" 

The climax her body had been longing for arrived and Aimée cried out softly, falling onto her mother's shoulder just to stay standing. As the last paroxysm shook her body, she drifted down the wall and rested exhausted on the floor. 




The Afflicted Ch. 03-04



"I'm sorry, mother," she said as her eyes struggled to stay open. 

"I am, too, my dear," said Frederique, her heart going out to her infatuated daughter. 

She knew through her own experience that the pain of Aimée being denied her brother as a bloodmate would pass, but that didn't make it any easier at the moment. 

"Sleep now," she urged. She reached out with the tendrils of her mind to encourage the natural post-orgasm drowsiness. Aimée responded instantly and slumped to the floor. Frederique wished she had Galen's gifts, which could be used to fool the Affliction into several days without sexual replenishment. The best she could do was send a soothing message to Aimée's 'friend' that would hopefully at least get them through their New York arrival. 

Frederique covered Aimée with a nearby robe and then turned to Claude who was watching helplessly - lost in his own lustful haze which had faded a bit, but was no less urgent. 

"Now, stallion," said Frederique, "I have to admit the stories Aimée has been telling me have more than piqued my interest. What do you say I milk that painful looking thing for you?" 

Claude was too numb to do anything but nod in agreement as Frederique darted to her cabin to retrieve her beloved oils. 

"How far we've come, no?" she said as she sat lovingly beside him on the bed and placed a gentle hand on his swollen member. "It seems a lifetime ago when I first came to you in your hour of need. One more time. One more time and then you'll have so many hungry Afflicted girls after you this will all seem as distant a memory as that time I first soothed your awakened beast." 

Claude tried to protest, to insist that he would still need Aimée, but she put a silencing finger to his lips. 

"How about we leave it at this. Talk to me in one month's time and then you can tell me how true these words that I have said tonight are. For now, just let me release the floodgates my boy." 

She now kneeled between his legs, grasping his swollen organ and lathering it with her scented lubricants. 

Six hundred years as an Afflicted. With the sexual hunger attached to their gift/curse - that meant hundreds of thousands of sexual unions - millions of strokes gone into finding the perfect way to please a partner. Once again, Claude was the grateful beneficiary of all of that experience. 

Though expert, she was not languid in her approach. She knew Claude was already near bursting, truly. She also knew Palo could stir very soon and she would rather not walk the path of explaining these activities which he still did not comprehend as anything other than abominable. 

"That's the way," she cooed as Claude's breathing began to quicken. "Don't hold back; let me see how much you are holding inside." 

She squeezed harder at the tip now while stroking his rigid shaft with her other hand. His hips bucked. She pointed his cock into the air - tilting it ever so slightly in her direction. 

Even she was surprised at the stunning eruption which shot forth. Unchecked by a woman's milky walls, the steam shot higher and higher into the air - coming down on her hair, her face and spilling down across her gorgeous breasts. 

"Oh my, Claude!" she squealed with involuntarily excitement. "Again, my boy. Do it again." 

His cock needed no persuading and actually shot the next blast even higher, up and over her shoulder. She couldn't help but laugh as the streams kept coming. 

"Oh my goodness, where do you keep it all, darling?" 

By the time he was done, her front was spattered entirely with white creamy liquid, as were her thighs and his belly. Even her chin still dripped from the one blast she had ducked down to capture in her mouth. 

"Bravo, my boy," she said, patting his chest maternally while holding his still hard cock in her hand. 

She gave it a teasing stroke; sure he would shudder from exhaustion. 

"Oh god," he moaned as her movement brought it back to full rigidity. 

"Still?" she said, amazed. "After all that?" 

"Yes," he rasped. "Just once more, mother - once more. It seems to never be at peace." 

She couldn't believe what he said - but his lovely rod was indeed responding in lively fashion to her attentions. 

She pushed her awareness into his body and tried to sense why his 'friend' was still hungry. Reaching out, she still sensed loneliness coming from his Afflicted cells. Though his body was obviously sexually satiated, the Affliction yearned for more - for companionship. Having been interrupted with Aimée and only satisfied by Frederique's hands and mouth - his highly sensitized and awakened body was still not satiated in its primal desire. 

Frederique sighed and then padded quickly in to her cabin to assure Palo was still slumbering soundly. He was and she returned, locking Claude's door and slinking to his side. 

For a second time on their journey, she knew what her son needed and was the only person who could provide it. She had no objection to providing him the services of her hands or mouth. That was merely physical relief. As for full penetration, she knew of the psychological implications but saw no choice. With luck, she could fully satisfy him and send out an extra message to his body that it needn't mate for at least a day or so. 

"Very well, my handsome boy. I will do this for you." 

She climbed up on the bed and straddled his massive, turgid cock. It was certainly not a 'clean' experience. His belly was still coated, and so much of her skin was still soaked and even crusting over with his copious white emissions. 

"Mother? Are you certain?" gasped Claude as she placed his engorged head against her moist lips. "Before, I was in a blood rage. You needn't do this. I will restrain myself." 

"No my dear," she said, pausing prior to penetration. "We make harbor tomorrow and we need you fully aware and focused for our arrival. It would hardly do to have you manacled for safety upon our arrival in a new country. But listen, Claude..." 

At that point, she paused and pushed down upon her son's cock, the lingering semen serving as sensual lubricant in her acceptance of him into her body. He gasped in pleasure and she took her face in his hands, staring deeply into his eyes which bore the look of passionate panic one might see in a rutting deer or some other animal caught in the throes of nature's compulsions. 

"Listen," she repeated, gazing into his eyes to attempt to both bring back his human side and also command the beast within him. "You are not alone. You are here, with others of your kind and you will soon have many mates to choose from. Do you comprehend?" 

"Yes," said Claude, confused, "but...:" 

"It is important you hear those words with your very soul, my lovely boy," she said, "for that is where this insatiable need originates, in loneliness. So long as you can tell yourself you are not alone, you will be able to keep the craving in check until you find your bloodmate. So - are you alone?" 

"No, mother," whispered Claude as he pushed his first stroke into her. 

"Good," she said. 

She had retrieved the key to his handcuffs earlier and now unlocked his hands. 

"Are you alone?" she asked again. 

"Oh god, no," groaned Claude in relief as he wrapped his arms around her. 

"No, you are not," she said, smiling. She could already feel his afflicted body crying out in relief from mating with one of its kind." 

This union was one fraught with much conflict. There was Palo in the next room, who would never understand this gift she was offering out of necessity. There was Aimée, who would be fine while sleeping, but might become dangerously aroused once more if she were to awaken and witness their lovemaking. Finally, there was Claude, who must be carefully regulated in his passion to avoid him losing control and attempting to take her for his own bloodmate. However, if there was any one who could control a sexual union, it was a beauty like Frederique who had a few centuries' experience to draw on. 

"That's it," she said softly, using her hips to control his pace. 

"You are amazing," said Claude as she gave him the full attention of her body. Tightening on his cock from the inside - pushing on the proper nerves to both soothe and excite him with her fingers. 

"So are you, my boy," she whispered. 

And he was, it had been some time - almost a decade, since she'd lain with someone other than Palo. Viewed objectively, she could hardly do better than the fine specimen her son represented. 

She soon signaled with a soft push on his shoulder that they should switch positions and they flipped over, Claude now impaling her from above. 

"Slowly now," she said in soft, hypnotic tones. "Soak in this union; let your Affliction revel in knowing that it has a companion." 

She was clearly the superior in this situation and he followed her orders to the letter. She had been with dozens of men of many shapes and sizes, and each brought their own benefits. One thing she enjoyed much about men with greater endowment was the length of the strokes it afforded them. Though she was still in control, her body could not help but respond to the strokes her son was pushing into her. 

"Oh yes," she moaned as his shaft of pleasure worked all the way from her slippery opening to so far back he was stretching her insides to the point of beautiful pain. 

"So good," moaned Claude. "So good, not alone, so good, not alone." He repeated the phrase again and again. 

She felt it first, and was surprised that it was her body which surrendered to climax first. 

"Oh, mon fils," she gasped, reverting to calling him son in her native tongue in her passion. 

"Oui, ma mere," he replied, her voice also sending him over the brink into rapture. 

For several moments, the two of them completely forgot each other. There was no mother. There was no son. They were merely two lovers, merging into bliss and assuring one another of companionship in the lonely world. 

The heat within her pushed her even further into surrender. The hot jets of cum filling her were unlike any she'd felt since she'd mated with her first husband hundreds of years before. So lost was she in the experience that she nearly forgot herself and could only urge him to fill her more and more. 

He did just that, and soon the hot white syrup was positively flowing out of her. 

"Keep coming, my love," she begged him. "Don't stop." 

"I couldn't if I tried," he groaned into her ear. "Oh mother, this monster is killing me - it's taking every last drop from my entire body. I will not survive." 

She smiled and almost laughed. Sex was the small death in normal situations; she couldn't imagine what it must be like to have such an extreme release. 

"You'll survive," she said soothingly, "trust me." 

After what seemed an impossible amount, his spurts did subside and she held him close as the last twitches left him nearly senseless. 

As she had with Aimée, she again sent a reassuring message into his system as he drifted into unconsciousness. 

"Frederique!" called Palo from the hallway. "Frederique, where are you?" 

"Mon dieu!" she gasped, pushing Claude off of her and scrambling to put the room in some semblance of order as she spoke. 

"Yes, my love. I'm just looking after the children," she called through the door. 

"Are they awake?" he asked, jiggling the handle. 

"No, no - they aren't awake," she cried. "Be quiet then, and let me just tidy up." 

With her superior strength and levitation abilities, she quickly lifted Aimée to the bed and then covered the two passionate youths with blankets. Grabbing a washcloth from the basin, she cleaned herself as best as she could before opening the door and slipping quickly out. 

"Are they all right?" he asked, concerned. 

"Yes, yes - I just gave them a little something extra to assure they slept and are prepared for tomorrow." 

"Yes, tomorrow," her handsome, dark husband said, smiling. "Where we can put this escapade behind us and get on with a normal life. As normal as it can be for our kind." 

He pulled her into a kiss but pulled back. 

"You're so warm." 

"Yes, yes - just the heat of being in these stuffy quarters." 

"I'd like to warm you up even more," he said, kissing her again. 

She was just able to stop his hand as it slid down her side and tried lifting her gown. A veritable river was flowing out of her and she had to think fast to avoid a very complicated explanation. 

"Oh, let me warm you up first, my love," she said, dropping quickly to her knees. "I've been fantasizing about tasting you for over an hour - just wishing you might wake up." 

* * * * 

Claude and Aimée awoke much chagrined the following morning. She awoke entwined with Claude and saw her mother quietly doing needlepoint in the chair. 

"Mother, I'm so ashamed. I'm so sorry!" she said, standing and crossing to hug her lovely mother. 

"So you said last night," replied Frederique calmly. "It is my fault in a way. I was silly to think only the boy in this situation would be unable to control himself. I've seen my share of bloodlust - and girls are no less immune to primal desire than boys. The good news is, we enter the harbor this very evening and a new world awaits us." 

The remaining daylight hours progressed quietly. They packed their things and stacked their luggage in their cabins. They dropped anchor just down the coast from New York, mid-afternoon, at which point the captain cleared the deck and came below to discuss disembarkation plans. 

The plan was consistent with usual Afflicted transports. They would enter New York Harbor at twilight and drop anchor once it was dark. Once all was confirmed to be safe, a launch would come to take them to the city. Their captain was so accomplished that he had even timed their voyage to arrive in late afternoon. 

"Now listen carefully," explained Captain Brand. "We don't anticipate any trouble, but we must always be prepared. Each of your doors swivels outward and will block the hallway as well. If there is any sign of trouble, you are to move to the innermost cabin - your parent's cabin - and lock the two prior doors. These doors are steel lined and Council built. Even the new steam machines of the day will take some time to get through these defenses. If such a thing should come to pass, we trust Council defenses will arrive before they are able to penetrate the inner cabin. 

The captain walked them through the lock-down procedures and gave them a few other words of just-in-case advice before offering them his hand one final time. 

"My dear friends," he said, kissing Frederique's hand respectfully. "It is always a pleasure to be in the service of the Council and your most remarkable kind - but I cannot remember such fine gentlemen and beautiful ladies - as well as such gifted fighters. It has truly been an honor." 

"What are your plans after this?" asked Frederique gently. They had all become quite fond of the captain and wished him all the best. 

"Well, I had planned on serving another ten years before taking the blood rite. However, after that remarkable flight with Frederique I am tempted to convert as soon as I have enough merit points. That should be two or three more transports after this. I think I am ready to give up the sun after meeting such fine people as you." 

(It was the practice of the Council to find and vet trustworthy mortals for daylight service and after a period of twenty or so years, to reward them with the Affliction if so desired.) 

"We would also be honored," said Frederique, "to have such an able and intelligent a man as you join our ranks." 

"I thank you, and I bid you farewell. Things generally go very fast upon the transfer to a new port." 

Upon the captain's departure, Palo had a look of concern on his face. 

"Children," he said, "as an extra precaution, we should move your bags and the treasure into our quarters." 

Little did he know how grateful they would be for his caution. 

Claude and Aimée chose to wait in his cabin while they entered New York Harbor. They took turns at the viewer and gasped with excitement at seeing the vast expanses of buildings which dwarfed anything they'd ever even imagined. They turned in surprise at the sound of their mother's voice. 

"And what mischief are you two getting into." 

After an initial blush, Claude confessed. 

"Well mother, we might as well tell you know - this remarkable painting gives us a view of anywhere on or off of the ship." 

"Anywhere on the ship do you say?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. 

Aimée's blush was all she needed for her answer. 

"What a remarkable invention. And smoked glass, too, I see. Well, keep watching." 

During one of Claude's turns, he looked away from the viewer and to his mother worriedly. 

"I think the police are coming," he said. "There's a rather official boat approaching with men in uniforms." 

"Nothing to worry about," said their mother. "The Council has relationships with every port authority. No doubt they'll make a show of inspecting us and send us on our way." 

Claude kept watching the approaching vessel. 

"What strange uniforms they have in America," he said, squinting his eyes trying to make out the details in the setting sun. "Pointed black hats, and the insignia, it's a chalice of some kind. Yes, a chalice with what looks to be a white drop on the side." 

"What did you say?" said Frederique, alarmed. 

"Yes, a white drop..." 

"Let me see," she said, shoving him aside. 

She peered intently into the viewer and gasped in alarm. 

"Lock us in!" she cried. "Claude, get your father and work with him on locking the doors. We must retreat and pray to whatever gods smile on our kind." 

The tone in her voice broached no argument and they quickly followed her orders. They were already sliding the large bolts on the inner door when the small bell rang in the cabin which signaled the alarm. 

"What has happened?" asked Palo. 

"It is the black guard," she said - and for the first time in their lives Claude and Aimée saw their mother truly frightened. 

"I thought they were just a myth," said her husband. 

"Oh no, they are very real. Men trained and indoctrinated by the Vatican to seek out and eradicate our kind." 

"I'm not concerned," said Palo. "We must merely wait until the sun sets and then we eliminate them like we did the pirates." 

"Oh no we won't," said Frederique between clenched teeth. "Listen to me Palo, whatever you do don't engage these men unless we have no other choice." 

A great pounding began and echoed throughout the hull. 

"Aimée, take us back home," said Frederique. "Take us to our basement." 

"Nonsense,' said Palo, though he didn't sound so confident in his argument. 

"It doesn't matter," insisted Frederique. "We'll make our way here again but being in the new world means nothing to us if we are dead!" 

A huge crash sounded down the way. It was clear the first barricade had fallen. 

"Aimée, now!" 

Aimée grasped their hands and envisioned the basement of their Moroccan home, their safe haven for as long as she and Claude and been alive. 

Yet, at that very moment there was the curious pop of in the room. 

"'Ello me lovelies," said a man's voice. It caused them to turn abruptly and Palo to draw his sword. The man in the black bowler who had appeared snipped out just in time to avoid Palo's thrust. He was now on the other side of the bed in the cabin. 

"Would love to have some fencing practice, good sir," the jovial looking man said. "But right now I'd much prefer to get you all to a safe location." 

"My good sir, are you a deplaceur?" asked Frederique.