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The Newborn

By: Daniellekitten



Prologue

Chains rattled harshly in the predawn hours, breaking the silence of the quiet basement. A low growl followed and then the sound of a body hitting the cement floor. A gasp and the sound of water hitting the floor was almost anticlimactic as the single light in the center of the room was turned on, it's bright cone of light spotlighting the bloodied body of the naked girl and the insidious smile of her captor.

"You've been told, Jasmine. Tell us what we want to know and we'll end this suffering."

The girl flung her hair back, long tendril of black that stuck in the wounds on her shoulders and back. "Take this collar off of me and I'll end this now." Her words were spoken barely above a whisper but he heard her.

"Do I look that stupid?" He didn't wait for her to speak; instead his hand drew back, the long serpentine coil of the whip following obediently. It cracked, its braided ends cutting into the raw wounds of her back. Blood spattered against the cement, tiny pieces of her skin and little snippets of flesh were sheared off to add to the patterns of gore around her. 

Her scream was raw and anguished, her body tensing in the overwhelming agony he was dealing. "I can't!" she screamed. "They'll kill me."

"I'll kill you, Jasmine." He stepped closer, lifting the leash that was clipped to her collar and holding her up on her tiptoes with it. "And if not me, then I could always let Lucian come down to play some more. He flicked his fingers over the bite marks that had been left on her heaving breasts. "I heard him tell the Master how much he enjoyed his time with you."

"No!" she moaned, her head shaking weakly. "No, don't let him hurt me anymore."

"Oh and here I thought you were enjoying his fat cock. I'd never heard a woman cry and moan like they do when Lucian is in the room with them." He dipped his head, dropping a kiss on her forehead before letting go of her collar and stepping back. He drew his arm back again, knowing that she would either give in now, tell them where the newborn had been taken or she too will have been a waste of time.

With a small curse, he sent the whip whistling her way, pulling back so the ends cracked above her skin, not touching her. "Tell me, now Jasmine or I'm calling Lucian." He waited for a few moments longer and then he shook his head sadly. "Lucian it is."

She screamed as he went to the phone in the corner of the room, watching as he picked it up and could hear it ringing above them somewhere in the deep bowels of the house. "No!" she screamed. "Stop! I'll tell you. I will."

Antoine smiled at the woman, dropping the phone back into its cradle. "Tell me, Jasmine. Tell me where they took the baby."

Harsh sobs shook her shoulders and for a moment, she couldn't speak. Her throat felt clogged and the pain seemed too much to handle. Jasmine held herself up from the floor, her arms shaking with the strain. She opened her mouth to speak again and a fresh wail shook her.

But her captor wasn't waiting. "Where's the baby!" he shouted, grabbing her leash and dragging her up.

With an inhuman growl, Jasmine pushed herself even further, her mouth opening and her teeth clamping down on Antoine's neck. She bit down hard, pulling her head back and spitting out the mouthful of flesh she'd ripped from him.

Blood spurted, mixing with girl's blood that already coated the floor. Antoine dropped her leash, his hand scrabbling at his throat as the strength of his heart pumped his life's blood through the wound.

"Fuck you!" Jasmine screamed, her hands scrabbling at the pistol the man wore at his waist, yanking it out easily enough. She turned, glaring defiantly at the camera, knowing that Antoine's master had been watching every strike of the whip, ever thrust of Lucian's deformed body into hers. "And fuck you too," she snarled, a bubble of hysterical laughter following. She heard the door to the basement opened and raised the pistol, pulling the trigger without hesitation. 

It dropped from her dead hands, a gaping hole left in Jasmine's skull. The men who'd flinched back at the report of the gun gasped as they saw the body of the dead Seer as well as the still bleeding corpse of the man left with the duty to get the information the Master needed.

"He will not be pleased."

The deep voice that rang out from the intercom speakers built into the walls of the basement was loud and unexpected. "Her body is to be sent to them, mail it to them in pieces. I want each piece branded with their holy sign. Burn it in deep. Drop Antoine in the ditch. Find me another. I want that baby and I want it now!"

There was a scrabble of bodies moving and the scene was cleaned up quickly. Jasmine's body was taken into another room, a saw used to perform the necessary cuts to have her fitting into boxes all addressed to the same place. More men were sent out under the cover of night to search for the next that would feel the master's whip. The baby, his fate prophesized from before even his conception, was safe still.

Chapter One

The end of day bell couldn't come quickly enough, not today anyway. Sabra Kozilinski stared at the clock, watching the second hand with impatient eyes. It wasn't often that her brother was allowed to come home to visit and she didn't want to miss a single second of what time they would be allowed together.

"Settle down," Tasha hissed from next to her. Natasha Biddleson, her best friend since elementary school, knew what was happening tonight. "Squirming isn't going to make time go by faster. You don't want Leather Head up there to give you detention tonight."

Tasha nodded toward their last period teacher. Leather Head had been given the name for his weird shaped head and the leathery looking skin that covered it. He was also one of the meanest teachers the school had and enjoyed doling out detentions with an unselfish hand.

"Is there a problem, Miss Biddleson?"

Natasha shot Sabra a dirty look. "No sir. Everything is fine."

"Did I not give you enough work to keep you busy? Should I give you another page or two?"

"Oh no sir. Busy as a bee," she lifted her pencil and made some movements as if she were writing on air before pressing it back on to the paper.

"Well, then, perhaps it's you, Miss Kozilinski? Do you need more work for this weekend? I mean, isn't your brother coming to visit today?" He waited for Sabra to nod and then rose from his chair and moved towards her seat.

The man didn't walk like a normal human. Instead he always seemed to skulk or scuttle, looking sneaky and deceptive. He trailed his finger over the papers on Sabra's desk and then let his hand settle on her shoulder, his gnarled looking fingers digging into her skin. "Detention would be a shame today, wouldn't it Miss Kozilinski?"

"Oh yes sir," Sabra gasped. She stared back down at her papers, not willing to look up at her teacher. She knew his tricks well and knew what would happen if he thought she was mocking him. 

"Then perhaps you can share with the class what the answer to problem thirty-five?" He stared down at her paper, noting that she had yet to reach that part of the assignment.

Instead of giving in, knowing what he would do if she didn't give the answer, she stared at her book, figuring the answer in her head. As she opened her mouth, she could only pray that it was right. "Negative twenty-six, sir."

The sound of his disappointment could be heard as he realized that she was right. "Very good, Miss Kozilinski. Please don't make me talk to you again or I will have no choice but to see you for detention at the end of the day."

"Oh yes sir, I mean no sir. I'll finish my work. Thank you, sir." She breathed a sigh of relief as his hand dropped off her shoulder. She even managed not to rub at the bruised flesh, knowing that would give the man more satisfaction.

She didn't even dare to look up before he reached his desk, seating himself and picking the book he'd let fall back up. It was a heavy looking book, thick bindings and yellowed pages that almost seemed to creak as he turned them. Sabra didn't even want to hazard a guess at what it was about or who was the author.

"Ouch," she hissed at Natasha. "I'm going to end up with bruises."

"But no detention." Natasha grinned at her friend. "You got lucky."

"Yeah." She wrote down the next answer, quickly working out the problems in her head. Leather head didn't want to see their work, only the answers, neatly printed on the left hand side of the page. He only demanded the work from those in the class that were failing, but Sabra was one of the smartest of the students he had.

"What time does Ben get here?" Nat asked, glancing up at the clock.

"He'll be home before I get there." Sabra wrote down another answer, her eyes going from the book to the page of paper, then back to the book. She wouldn't look up, not and give Leather Head any other chance to punish her. "Shh," she warned Nat.

The two girls settled back into their work, only glancing up every few minutes instead of the second by second perusal Sabra had been doing before. She jumped when final bell finally rang and quickly packed away her books. Pulling her keys out of her purse, she nagged at Nat. "Come on, girl. Let's go."

Nat shook her head. "I'm going, just give me a chance to put stuff away." She threw her book into her bag, wishing she had Sabra's skill with math and English. The girl was a whiz, every class seeming easy to her and not the constant struggle Nat had with finishing assignments and understanding enough to pass her tests.

She watched as Sabra headed to the door without her, finally slinging on her back pack and following her. They met Deanna Schlock at the door to the parking lot and headed towards Sabra's car.

"It was close," Tasha said. "Leather Head was pushing buttons today."

"Yeah, but there was no way I was missing out tonight. It's not often that Benjamin can get away to visit. I'm not missing a moment of the time we can spend together." Sabra hit the auto lock button on her key fob then hit the button for the trunk. She threw her book bag into the back before climbing into the driver's seat and waiting for her friends to end their usual argument about who was sitting in the front seat. "Hurry it up or you guys are going to be walking," she called out in a sing song voice.

Tasha won and Deanna climbed into the back seat, rolling her eyes at Sabra. "She cheated again."

"You two are going to have to come up with a better way of handling this." Sabra glanced at Tasha. "She always claims you cheat and you're never happy any other way." She put the key in the ignition, starting the new Mustang that her parents had gotten her for her eighteenth birthday. It roared to a start, then purred as she shifted it lovingly into reverse.

The parking lot was busy, kids crossing the lot, others pulling out to join the lineup that was starting at the stop sign to get out to Main Street. Sabra waited for her chance, then smoothly and quickly backed the car out, getting into line with the other kids. She sat impatiently, her hand thumping against the steering wheel to the beat of the music that came out of the speakers. Deanna and Tasha argued, like they always did, but instead of trying to be the peace maker, she growled at the line ahead of her, hitting her horn irritably.

"Sabra, they can't move if the person in front of them isn't moving." Deanna glanced at the reflection of her friend in the rear view mirror. "He won't leave until you get the chance to see him. The council wouldn't do that to you or to him."

"I don't know. This whole visit has been a bit shady, like he's being given time off to give us bad news. I don't understand it, I just know I don't get to talk to him on the phone anymore. Mom and dad are so damn secretive about stuff. I hate being thought of as a child." She smacked her palm on the horn once more. "Hurry the hell up!" she cried, rolling down her window to make her irritation known. She slammed on her brakes barely missing the bumper of the car in front of her.

She started keeping time with her hand again, moving forward eagerly until she was at the stop sign. "They need to put a stop light in here," she complained. She hit her accelerator and then her brake when the car coming hit their horn. By the time she pulled out, she had tears in her eyes and her whole body was shaking.

"Are you okay, Sabra?" Tasha let her hand fall to her friend's arm. "He's visited before and I don't think I've ever seen you like this."

Sabra let out a long sigh. She shook her head, trying hard to calm down. "Something is going on and I don't know what it is. No one will tell me anything. I've...I've been having problems with bad dreams and I've had a hard time sleeping. I know it has something to do with Ben but I don't know what." She turned on her turn signal, watching as the long line of continuous cars passed her. There was an abrupt break, and she squealed out of the lot and took the almost too small space in line.

Another sigh left her lips. She felt Natasha's hand slide to her shoulder and give her a reassuring squeeze. "Just keep it calm, Sabra. Ben will be there when you get home. You know how he feels about you."

Sabra nodded and a small smile touched her lips. She'd never told her friends what had happened the last time Ben was home. She wouldn't tell them now. They'd never understand and would probably consider her and her brother some kind of perverts. But she knew they weren't, she knew that Ben felt the same thing for her that she did for him. She could almost feel him now, his anxiety to see her, watch him pacing the floor in front of the living room window, watching for the first sign of her car.

She turned down Main Street, pulling into Deanna's father's shop where her friend worked after school every day. She waved at Deanna's reminder to "call her" and then turned around quickly in the lot.

"Sabra, I know you aren't going to pay any attention to me but please try a bit of cool so your parents' don't think they've got any incest going on in the house. She tugged on Sabra's hand, putting it up against her cheek. "You know I love you girl, and you know I know how you feel about Ben and that I understand. But you're still only eighteen. Okay?"

Sabra smiled at her best friend. "I'll call you tonight," she promised though she doubted she would have the time. If Ben treated her like he did the last time, they'd be hot and heavy in his bedroom. This time she wasn't going to stop him, this time she was going to beg him to stick it in her, to make her his. So what if what she felt was considered wrong, she loved Ben and he loved her.

Sabra pulled into Tash's driveway, leaning over to kiss her friend on the cheek. "Cool?" Natasha reminded her. "Keep it cool."

Sabra nodded and then made shooing motions with her hands. "I'll call you after we go to bed, okay?"

Natasha reached out and picked up the necklace that Sabra was wearing, the same necklace that she wore as well. Running her thumb over the circle of crescent moons given to both girls on the summer solstice, a holy day among their people, she could feel the spark of magic that had shocked both girls the first time she'd done it. "My loyalty to you," Tasha said, bending and placing her lips on the triple moon.

Sabra touched Natasha's cheek, bring her face up so that she could press her lips to hers. "Mine to you," she vowed. "Now get the hell out."

Tasha snorted and then reached for the car door, glancing back one last time before Sabra pulled away, heading down the block and one more street over to where her parent's house lay. A strange shiver trembled through her and she felt as if an evil shadow was covering her friend. A small shock vibrated against her lips and she looked up once more as she walked out to the end of the driveway.

Sabra was turning onto the street between their houses and driving swiftly out of sight. Just the glimpse of the red tail lights made Tasha feel nauseous. She reached out and grabbed the trash can, shaking her head slowly. Something wasn't right, she knew it. She could feel it deep in her center. A shudder shivered through her and she clasped her arm close to her body, trying to force warmth into her core.

A strange dark shadow covered the sun and Tasha turned quickly, wanting the warmth and sanctity of her house against whatever evil spirits were taking flight this day. She dropped the trash can by the back door and then opened the door into the cheerily painted kitchen. Her mom was standing at the sink, a potato in one hand, the peeler in the other.

She didn't move until Tasha reached out and touched her, turning and holding the peeler up as if it were a weapon.

"Oh, baby. Thank God it's you. There are strange vibes out there today. Did you feel it?"

"I felt something, Mom. It was like an evil shadow covered the sun, letting his minions loose to play and romp."

Tasha's Mom nodded. "That's it exactly. I want you to stay close to home tonight, baby. The wind is whispering strange things to those who will listen." 

Natasha nodded. "After dinner, when Daddy's home, can we perform the ancient circle?"

Scarlette Biddleson nodded her head eagerly. "A protection circle is a good idea, Tash. Tell your father when he gets home so that he can get the candles out of the armoire." She leaned over and kissed her daughter then stared down at her hands as if she just remembered what she'd been doing. "Dinner will be done in about a half an hour."

* * * *

Sabra pulled to a stop outside the wide garage that stood at the end of their driveway. She could see Ben's car in the place he'd always parked since he got it on his 18th birthday. Grabbing her backpack, she ignored the daunting feeling of the air outside and hurried up to the back door.

Her backpack got tossed onto the stairs and she continued through the house until she heard Ben's voice speaking to their mother. She burst into the room, watching as his eyes, so wide and green, stared down at her in pleasure.

"Well, there's my bratty sister. Here I thought I wasn't important enough for you to come home and leave all your friends to see me." He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her close so that he could buzz a kiss across her forehead. "I missed you brat."

"Yeah, I can tell by all the long, long letters and emails you've sent me since you went back to school. I think you've left longer messages for the dog than you did me." She crossed her arms over her breasts pouting up at him.

Ben tickled her, making her snort that had all of them laughing. "She's just so ladylike, Mom. Are you sure she's my sister and not my brother?"

"She's your sister, honey. Now let her go so that she can set the table for dinner. You two can lock yourselves away later tonight and spin your secrets."

Sabra pushed away from him, reaching over to the cupboard that held their every day dishes. She grabbed the stack, letting the silverware rest on top and carried it through the swinging door into the dining room. The stoneware was heavy and she sat it down with a clatter before reaching in a drawer in the corner cabinet and pulling out placemats. Turning, she almost screeched, glaring at Ben as he held his finger up to his lips.

"Shh, baby sister." He set down the glasses he carried and took the mats from her. Dropping them to the table as well, he tugged on her arms, pulling her close so that he could wrap her in his embrace. "I missed you." His lips pressed against hers as he spoke and she couldn't find the presence in mind to push him away.

He tasted spicy, like cinnamon and nutmeg, his lips warm, parting hers to push his tongue between her lips. His groan seemed to fill her chest and her fingers dug through his hair, pulling on his soft brown curls.

He kissed her hungrily, barely able to release her when she heard their mother coming toward the dining room. When she opened the door, Sabra was smoothing down the placemats before Ben would put a plate on them and arrange the silver on a folded napkin. 


The Newborn Ch. 02



A Warning to all my regular readers. This chapter is a bit rough. Deanna is being tortured and then forced to have sex with her father while the demons watch. So there is your warning. I hope if you read it, you'll enjoy the plot line. Thanks so much!

* * * *

Chapter Two

Deanna Schlock rolled her eyes as her father handed out her work for the day. She nodded her head when he was finished and then reached into her book bag, pulling out her Ipod and ear buds. She was forced to work for her father and she did it for free, but no one said she had to enjoy it.

Quickly grabbing trash bags, she went through the store and the work room, emptying each receptacle and then headed for the back door that led into the alley. She tried to ignore the tremor of unease she'd always felt in the alley. It was dark, covered in shadows, and she hurried toward the dumpster, picking up the lid and tossing the big bag she'd collected. Then she closed it up and turned back toward the door, her steps slowing when she realized that the door had closed.

It had an automatic lock and she knew she was locked out. Letting loose a shrill scream of panic, she kicked and hit at the heavy metal door, trying to get her dad's attention so he would open the door.

"Fuck!" she growled, turning and kicking at an empty box. She had two options, neither one thrilling her any at all. She could continue to bruise her hand on the door and hope that her half deaf father would hear her and open the door.

Or...she could walk down the long, dark alley and go around to the front of the store. Her hands rose and she rubbed at her arms, all ready feeling the chill and the fear that came with it. "Daddy!" she screeched. "Open the door!"

"Damn, damn, damn!" Deanna pushed away from the door. Her father was working in the front of the store today. He would never hear her cries or come looking for her until he did miss her. That could take hours. Looking down the long alley she could see the light at the end, almost as if she were drowning and could see the sun peering down at her. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she forced herself to take that first step. The light on the back door of her father's store was the only light that could be seen and she hated stepping out of the cone of safety it gave her.

Her next step came quicker and then quicker still until she was running down the alley. She jumped bags of trash and veered around the homeless man that made this alley a home. The light from the street seemed almost in reach and she breathed a heavy sigh, though she didn't slow down.

Then it was as if she'd hit a brick wall. She could feel blood dripping from her forehead and she wiped it away, pushing gently at the abrasion and bump it had left. "W...what the fuck?"

"Such language, little girl."

Deanna shrieked again and spun her hands out to try and protect herself. "Y...you scared me," she stuttered, staring at the stranger. He was tall and dark, his eyes glowing a startling red. He was handsome, even with the strange eyes and she felt her body relax involuntarily. "Who are you?"

"You know me Deanna. Just think about it a bit. I'm sure it will come to you."

Deanna wiped another gob of blood off of her forehead and she glared at the man who seemed intent upon his silly games. "I don't want to think about it. I want to go inside and have my daddy take me to the Emergency Room. My head really hurts." She could feel the heat of her tears and she tried to wipe them aside.

"Oh, I can make all that pain go away, Deanna. You've just got to answer a silly little question for me." He reached out and Deanna tried to duck around him. She didn't want him to touch her, not in any way.

"No! I'm going to find my father." She glared at him, bristling as she heard him chuckle and then wave his hand out to let her go.

"Be my guest," he said cordially enough, stepping back to give her more room to get by him. He glanced only once down the long alley, seeing the door to her father's shop start to open, and then he turned, following Deanna as she stepped into the vortex he created. She screamed as the wind began to blow, harder and yet still harder, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Soon she was holding out a hand, reaching for something, for anything that would help her stand. He stood just outside of her reach smiling congenially even as the wind whipped her hair into her face.

"You've only to ask for my hand and I will willingly give it to you, Deanna. All of this can become nothing more than a nightmare. You've just got to answer a question."

"W...what kind of a question!" She screamed the words at him.

"You know the whereabouts of the newborn," he tipped his head down as he asked the question, looking up at her from beneath his thick lashes.

"What newborn?" Deanna shrieked.

Then the world around her grew so silent she felt as if she could hear the world sucking the air away from her. She gasped, looking up to stare at the stranger that was causing all of this around her. "What newborn?" she whispered, her tone of voice seemed very loud. She ducked her head, wishing she could hide from him.

"The newborn that has been in all the prophesies. Don't tell me you don't know about them. All your coven knows."

"Coven? I'm not in a coven." Deanna tried to move away from him but he reached out and took her chin in a grip of steel, actually bruising her.

"The same coven your friends are in," he growled, sounding even more menacing. "The tri crescent that they wear." He grabbed the front of her shirt and tore it down the front, his hand pulling the sides away from her skin. "Where is it?"

"I don't believe in that stuff!" she screamed, hating the way his skin felt against her flesh. It was cold and somewhat slimy in texture.

"You don't believe in it? You don't belong to the coven and yet they still let you hang around with them. Oh honey, that is really too sad." He clicked his tongue and Deanna looked up at him.

His smile was wide, his teeth almost too white against the darkness of his skin. His canine teeth were sharp, fang-like. He licked his tongue across them and she shrieked. "What are you going to do to me?!"

"I can't just let you go, Deanna. You'll tell the authorities and they'll come after me. They won't find me, of course, but it will put a knot in my plans." He sighed, shaking his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Deanna. I just can't let you go running back to tell them."

"I won't," she said quickly, looking up at him with the most earnest of expressions she could find. "I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"Oh, you promise?" His eyebrows rose as he spoke.

"Yes," she answered, nodding her head. The tiniest bit of hope flaring in her heart. "I promise."

His mouth quirked and he tipped his head as if he were weighing her words. "You won't even tell your best friends? The girls that belong to the coven?"

"No, I won't tell anyone, mister. Please..." A sob broke her voice and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

"I wish I could believe you, Deanna." He sighed heavily, walking up to the girl. His hand came up and he brushed her hair out of her face. "If it was only that I needed to believe you...Mayhap I might find a special place for you."

"A...a special place?" Her voice was slightly higher pitches and it spoke of the lack of belief that she was feeling at the moment.

"Oh, yes, Deanna. I am need of a consort, a female that is able to be my general when I am unavailable. You would have to be true to me and do whatever I ask you to do. He brushed her lips with his finger, teasing the moist flesh. "Of course, part of proving your true faith in will have to be proven with your body, Deanna." His eyes roamed over the young girl, watching as her eyes sharpened as she finally comprehended his meaning.

"You...you want me to...to fuck you?" Her words were hesitant the curse seeming to surprise her as she said it.

"I've been told, Deanna, that I am a very fine specimen of a man." He stood straighter, staring down at her. "Would it be terrible to share pleasure with me? To give me the chance to show you what pleasure that I'm capable of giving?" He grabbed her hair, tugging her even closer so that the heat of her breath blew upon her cheeks. "Relax, Deanna. Reach out with your mind, close your eyes." He let his finger trace over her closed eyelids and the thread into her hair. Drawing her up to her tiptoes, he bent his head.

Deanna sobbed as she felt the first touch of his mouth upon hers. Tears streaked down her face and she wanted nothing more than to push this monster away from her. She desperately wanted to run, to find her father and have him save her from what he was going to want her to do.

His tongue pressed into her mouth and she sobbed, forcing her mouth to stay open for the possession of her tongue. His hands moved her body, squeezing the curve of her ass as if he were checking on the ripeness of her ass. He lifted her hips, pressing them into the front of his jeans. He grabbed her hips, twisting them so that she rubbed against his cock.

"Oh, now this is nice," he whispered catching her lips once more. He held up one hand, letting his index finger raise as the rest twisted into a fist. That finger moved over her face. He touched her lips, smiling down at her. "Very well done, Deanna. Now I have only one last act that you will have to perform for me to trust the measure of your trustworthiness. "

"W...what?"

"It's nice to know there's still a bit of backbone left in you, Deanna." He chuckled, his fingers rubbing at her shoulders. "I want you," he said slowly. "You come to me willingly, you do whatever I say to do, then perhaps I can find it in me to spare your life."

Deanna began to hope that she might make this out alive. She took the single last step that brought her flush against him. "I...I'll do anything you wish. Please, don't kill me."

He smiled, bending to press a single kiss to her lips. Then his hands were on her shoulders, pushing her to her knees. She stared up at him, finally looking at the pants in front of her. Her fingers went to the button and zipper that was all that was between her and the demon.

"I...I don't even know what your name is?" She glanced up again into his face.

His skin was a dark caramel color, a flush showing on his cheeks. His eyes, no longer red, were a fine amber color that seemed almost too true to be believable. His lips were parted and he smiled down at her gently.

"I guess it would probably be better to know the name of the man who's dick is going down your throat in a couple of moments. My name, little one, is Achabar. My father wished for me to have a memorable name. He wanted my name to wreck fear in the hearts of man. I just wanted to make sure that it made the women's panties wet." He laughed at his own joke and then moaned as she finished freeing his cock. Her lips were warm and very wet as he suckled him in and he ran his hands around her hair.

"Very nice, Deanna. Just watch the teeth and I'll have a good little cocksucker at my whim."

Deanna gagged when he pushed too far into her mouth but he didn't care. He pulled her head until her nose was buried against his pubic hair. She coughed and gagged, pushing him away with her hands on his thighs. But he didn't allow her any leeway, keeping his hands on her hair. He gave her a moment to breath but then pulled her right back, shoving his hard cock down her throat and cutting off her breathing.

He finally relented, helping her to stand in front of him. "We have an audience, Deanna," he whispered into her ear. "Show them how you strip."

Deanna glanced around into the darkness. Creatures, dark and demonic, seemed to be crawling out of the nothingness around them. Some were close enough to reach out and touch her, but he kept them back with just a look or a growl. "Strip for us, Deanna. Otherwise, I find myself growing bored."

She gulped in fear but knew what he was saying. If he grew bored, Deanna might find herself under these fiends and freaks. But if she did what he wanted, he would save her. He had to save her.

She reached up, slowly pulling the sides of her white blouse apart, showing off the new light pink bra that her mother had gotten for her. The cups were demi-half cups and they barely held her beautiful curves in place. She felt the hitch in her breathing, felt her breasts jiggle in those cups and heard his sigh of contentment.

"Have you been bred?"

"W...what?"

"Have you given birth?" There was a growling murmur from the ever growing mass of indefinable goons around them.

Deanna shook her head. "N...no. I'm only 18," she gasped.

"Hmmm, that's really too bad. Continue, please."

Mutters of agreement had her moving closer to him and she reached for the button on her jeans, snagging the zipper to pull down. Take them off, she felt his hand reach out and slip between her thighs.

Pleasure suffused her, something she hadn't expected to feel. Her pussy felt swollen and wet, a heavy throbbing sending luscious beats to her clit. She had an undeniable need to stroke her breasts, to twist her nipples, maybe even take one into her own mouth.

"Please," she gasped, looking up at him.

"Oh yes, please do," he answered, reaching out and snagging the back closure of her bra and flipping it open. "Show me how you pleasure yourself, Deanna. Show me what you like."

The bra was torn from her arms and he flipped it over to a bright red blob like being. It lifted it in its hideously gooey hands, its long tongue slicking inside the cups, leaving saliva to drip from her bra. But Deanna didn't notice. She was cupping her breasts, squeezing them together, pulling on her nipples. She twisted them with desperation, her hips moving harshly rubbing against the tight crotch of her panties.

"Come to me, Deanna," he whispered very quietly. "Come to me and we'll show you how to rid yourself of that ache. We'll show you how you can feel pleasure whenever you wish, no matter who is around you. I think you're father would enjoy this. Deanna didn't speak a word, only pressed her aching needful flesh against him. "Shall we bring him down, Deanna? Him and those buddies of his that are always trying to catch you naked while your mom is at work? Shall we give them a thrill?"

Deanna sobbed, hearing the words and feeling the strange kind of heat that had her panting, whimpering at the amazing ache his touch, his words left inside of her. She felt her nodding her head and then took his hands, moving to him and laying over his bent legs. He played with the thin center strip of her thong. He'd tug on it, forcing the rest of it to push against her clit, sending shivers of pleasure through her to make her pussy even wetter.

"Deanna Schlock! What are you doing?" Deanna swallowed hard, glancing up at her ham fisted father. She rose up so he could see her breasts and she cupped them hard, holding them out to him. "Please," she whimpered.

But the demon wasn't finished with Deanna yet. He took one slim nail, letting it cut through her thong so that the pieces just fell away from her, except for the piece that ran between her pussy lips. That seemed stuck there. Until her father came up and pulled on it, slowly tugging it away from her clit and making Deanna even more anxious and eager.

"Daddy, please. I...I need...something. Help me please Daddy."

"Now wasn't that so prettily said," he asked to the hordes of demons watching Deanna's every wiggle and gasp. "She needs the force of her daddy's cock to drive her back to the straight and narrow. Mr. Schlock, come right down. You're the next contestant in fuck your daughter day!" He took a hat and a microphone that he pulled out of thin air. "Show us how a real father would discipline his way word daughter. Give it to her Mr. D. Show us what we need to do with out own problematic children."

Mr. Schlock strode forward, reaching for Deanna with hard hands. He pushed her against a wall, his hands almost shaking as he began to move them over her skin. Deanna groaned and shook, wanting to climax more than anything else in this world. She lifted her breasts, offering them to her, arching her back to show off her curves even more Mr. Schlock slammed his bare hand on the rounded curves of her ass. "You and your friends, are out every night getting into trouble. Probably fornicating, getting picked up by the cops and giving them some as well. Admit it, Deanna. Tell me how big a slut you are."

"I...I...I'm not, daddy. Please don't do this." Her lips were saying no but her body was pressing ever heavier against his. He reached over, snagging her arm and dragging her in front of him. "Do you want to know what prostitutes do? Deanna, this is not a life for you. So if I must fuck you to take you back to being a good, god fearing daughter than that is what I will do."

He lifted her, carrying her high upon his chest. She wrapped her arm around his neck, pressing the sly macanations that she was trying to force him to make true.. "Daddy, please. I need filled. I need you."

Then suddenly the sound of the slimy, crawling beast from below started up a chant. "Fuck her, fuck her good. Raise a child of your own from the little bitch. Raise her as a child of good." More things were being mumbled and all she could do was stare at the man she claimed as father. He was nude, but then again so was she. Would he take her, even if it went toward saving her from these creatures. She felt the gentleness of his hands and suddenly she was excited once more. Giving up her virginity didn't seem near as bad or as scary when your father did it. She grasped onto his arm. "Please, Daddy. I don't want them to touch me. Let it be just you, please father? Just you."

"You...you want me to fuck you?" His voice was incredulous as he stared down at the little girl who'd used to run for airplane rides in his big arms. She wasn't little anymore, he'd noted that months ago. And yes, he'd occasionally open the bathroom door knowing she was showering and then, after getting a look, he'd excuse himself and back out. But hearing her beg him, to want to be touched by him, well just that thought had his cock hard and straining against his belly. He sat her down, looking around in confusion as the walls of their bathroom were suddenly there, the shower was on and it was steaming up the room.

Deanna was pressed between him and the bathroom sink, the curve of her ass so sweetly flush against him. His cock pressed between the crack of those perfect buns. He put his hands on her waist, unsure if he wanted to draw her back or push her away.

It was almost as if he could hear the censor and disappointment in Father John Gollsmith's voice raining down upon his head. He looked up, trying to find a way to push his daughter away from him and then he saw them, the line upon line of strange and evil creatures that stood looking down at them.

"Either fuck her, Dean Schlock, or I will find one of these fine cocks to do the deed. Just think, fucking your daughter, something you've wanted to do for years, or watching her take demon after demon into her womb. What kind of grandchild would that give you? What kind of mental state would she be in after it was all done?" He was quiet for a moment, just watching as Dean fought his inner demons. When his hands rose from Deanna's waist and slid over the luscious mounds of her breasts, plucking at her hard nipples, a crowing cry came from his mouth. "She could have saved herself and you from any of this Dean. All she had to tell me was where the newborn is. That's all I really want to know."

Dean's eyes were narrowed as he looked up at the demon who looked more like a man than any other of them. "We don't know of any newborns in this area," he said. 

"Yes, she told me the same." He waved his hands at the couple. "Come on now, let's get with and maybe make a newborn for you as well."




The Newborn Ch. 02



Deanna was pushing her chest into her father's hands unable to stop the moans of pleasure that were trickling from her lips. She arched her back, pushing her ass against her father's hard cock, knowing that what her daddy would do to her would be simply amazing. She'd known that he watched her. She'd have had to be dumb and blind not to know. "Please, Daddy. Fuck me," she whispered, hearing the roaring of the demons watching her.

"Are you still a virgin, honey?" Dean asked even as his hand moved down the front of her body, sliding across her taut stomach and across the soft brown curls that covered her pussy." Even as she answered, he felt the tight veil that covered her wet vagina. Deanna squirmed a bit as he pressed on it with two fingers, trying to stretch her just a bit to stop it from being so painful when he finally did fuck her. He wanted her to enjoy it. He wanted to hold her again like this, and again. The fires of hell were licking at the soles of his feet. He was damned.

"Do it!" the demon roared. "Fuck the bitch or back away so that my loyal followers can do the deed for you."

"God, baby. I'm so sorry." He took her hands, wrapping them around one of his arms and then kicked her feet a bit further apart.

"Just do it daddy." Deanna grabbed onto him, her nails digging into his skin as she felt his cock pushing against her virginal sheath. When he broke through, she screamed and the hordes of demons watching cried out their own pleasure.

It felt so delicious, so tight and perfect, he was having problems believing that what he was doing was wrong. He brushed the words of Father John out of his mind, sweeping them under the rug of his conscience. He was saving his daughter. He thrust deep, feeling the heat, the wetness, the perfection of that pussy that hugged him tight. One hand was covering that soft brown pelt, his finger pushing between her fat lips, searching for the tight bud of her clit. His other hand was on her breast, squeezing the soft flesh, kneading it before tugging on her nipple.

She was moving against him, little cries torn from her panting lips.

"Deanna," Dean groaned. "Tell me how much you like this, baby. Tell me you want more."

Deanna's hands were pushing against the counter, pushing her sweet body back against her father. He was a big man, one of his hands covered her entire breast, his huge fingers rolling her nipple and sending sparks of fire between her thighs where his big cock was battering. She could feel the beginning of an orgasm and she pushed back even harder. "Fuck me Daddy, make me come."

Dean felt a sudden stream of something hot and wet land across his shoulder and he glanced up. The demons around the top of the bathroom were jacking their huge dicks, sending stream after viscous stream down upon them. For some strange reason, the thought of what they were doing added to the guilty pleasure he was already feeling by fucking his 18 year old daughter. His balls were drawing up like hard marbles and his cock felt as if it were on a hair trigger. He badly wanted Deanna to come. He wanted that, to know she enjoyed what they were being forced to do. That she enjoyed it enough to maybe want to do it again.

The finger pressing between her swollen lips finally found the tiny bud that was so hard it was poking from behind its tiny hood. He used one finger to roll that sweet piece of flesh, feeling her jerk and then her hips moving almost furiously against him. 

"That's it baby, keep going. You're going to come," he hissed into her ear. "Daddy's going to make you come." Her cunt clamped down on his cock and she threw back her head, an undulating scream sounding from deep inside of her. He could feel the sweet flutters of her sheath around his cock and he growled deep, yanking her back hard so that he could fill his baby's womb with his seed.

Deanna fell against the countertop, the cold tile sending a shiver through her. She felt her father shove deeper inside of her and then a strange heat that sent another pulse of pleasure through her. A shudder tore through her and she tried to push her father away, suddenly feeling guilty and wrong for what she'd been forced to do. "Get off of me," she groaned, glancing back at him.

"Not yet," he gasped, jerking against her to drain every ounce of his sperm into her. "Not yet, baby."

Deanna stared around the room. Her eyes grew wide when she recognized where they were. This was the bathroom at the store. Setting next to her were the bottles of chemicals she used to clean it. Hanging off the door knob were her clothes. Her father still wore his shirt and she could feel the rough texture of his jeans against the back of her legs.

"W...what are you doing?" she screeched, trying to push him away.

"I was fucking you," Dean growled. "Just like you asked me to."

Deanna shoved her father back with all her strength, feeling his cock pull from her body with a dull plopping sound. "You raped me!"

"You begged me."

She covered her breasts with her hands, trying to reach around him to grab her clothes. He stopped her, dragging her against his big body again, his hands roaming over her body, squeezing her tits and her ass. "You begged me for it, Deanna. Don't you try any of this rape shit. You and I both know what happened. If you tell your mother, I'll make sure that she believes me, not you. And we both know I can do this." He laughed, feeling his cock rising again as she squirmed against him. "This will happen again, Deanna. You might as well just get used to the idea. You enjoyed it, I got the cream from your pussy all over my cock." He shoved her to her knees, rubbing his cock on her face. "Smell it?"

She pushed her hand up between them and managed to rise. "You think I'm going to just do this when you want to?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes, and you'll smile and tell me how much you love it too. He slapped his hand down on her ass, enjoying the way the flesh jiggled. Pulling up his jeans, he zipped and snapped them. "Hurry up and get dressed, Deanna. We don't want you mom thinking that you're suck a slut you took advantage of how much I love you."

He stood back, watching her dress. When she was done, she tried to walk by him, only to stop when he took her arm. "Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me and thank me for fucking you silly this afternoon, Deanna. And make it sound as if you mean it or I might have to fuck you again, right now to prove the point."

Deanna closed her eyes, forcing herself to turn toward her dad. She rose on tiptoe and pressed her lips against her father's almost gagging when he pushed his tongue into her mouth. When he'd finished, she pulled back and looked into his eyes. "T...thank you for...for fucking me silly, daddy."

He slapped her on her jean covered ass. "Finish up your work, Deanna. Then come and see me."

He smiled as she walked away, turning to glance in the mirror. For just an instant in time, he saw the demon who'd forced him to fuck his baby. He winked one eye and gave him a thumb's up sign with both thumbs. Then he slowly disappeared, leaving only Dean in the mirror once more.



The Newborn Ch. 03



Okay, my editor called me a machine the other day and I'm beginning to wonder if she was right. Another chapter done. I'm surprised my poor computer is still working. Enjoy!

* * * *

Chapter Three

Sabra stared at her plate, finding it hard to look up and look at Ben, even when she could feel his gaze on her. He was too important, too necessary for her happiness to give him just an unconcerned glance. She didn't trust herself not to let her feelings show in her eyes where her parents would see everything and then throw one or both of them out.

"You're not eating?"

Sabra glanced at her mom and she pushed another small pile of peas from one side of the plate to the other. "I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought."

Kimber reached out, laying the palm of her hand against Sabra's forehead. "You feel a bit warm. Do you feel all right baby?"

"I'm fine." She picked up her fork and scooped the peas she'd been playing with into her mouth, chewing them and then looking over at her mother. "Happy now?"

At her mother's nod, she went back to pushing her food around her plate, listening as her parents talked to Ben.

"So I think you have us all in a state of suspense, Benjamin. Tell us, what is this big news?"

Ben sighed and wiped his mouth with his napkin before he pushed his plate away. He leaned back against his chair and smiled. "The council has decided. I am to marry."

Sabra felt her heart leap into her throat and then fall to the pit of her stomach. "M-Marry?"

Her stuttered question was pretty much ignored as her parents happy exclamations drowned her out. She sank back against her chair letting her fork fall into her plate. Eating was now impossible and she felt as if what's she'd managed to swallow now became a huge ball of iron in her stomach. She barely blinked back the tears that wanted to fall and only looked up when her mother said her name once more.

"Sabra? Are you not happy for your brother? He will have a wife and hopefully babies soon."

She glanced up at Benjamin, seeing a strange look in his eyes as he stared at her. "Congratulations," she managed to choke out. "I guess I feel worse than I thought." She excused herself and hurried from the room before anyone could say a word. Taking the stairs two at a time, she threw herself upon her bed, letting loose the scream of pain that was tearing apart her soul.

He'd come to her, kissed her, and then tore her heart from her chest all in the space of an hour. How could he look so happy? How could he marry another when he claimed that she was the one he loved?

Tears streamed down her cheeks, sobs tore at her chest until she thought she'd be sick. She almost didn't hear the sly scratching upon her door. Rubbing at her cheeks, she sat up on the bed, trying desperately to scrub away the signs of her pain. "Y-yeah?"

* * * *

Ben opened the door, seeing the signs of her tears and felt his heart break. She'd left before he'd told her the big news, the news that was destined to change those tears to happiness and bring a smile to her face. He'd barely believed the Council of Twelve when they'd told him the truth of her paternity and their wishes. They were giving him the only thing he'd ever prayed for, the only thing he'd ever dreamed of. 

Sabra wasn't his sister, she wasn't a Kozilinski. She'd been given to his parents when he was a little boy, his mother hiding away and pretending to have her to keep her hidden. She was the promised child, the one foretold so many millennia ago that would save his people from the scourge that had searched for her since before her birth.

And she was to be his bride. He'd been chosen because of his devotion to the craft and to the Council and...to her. They'd somehow seen the love that he and Sabra had fought so desperately to hide, first from each other and then from the world. The Council knew that he'd give his life if it was necessary to keep Sabra safe. He'd gladly vowed to hold her before him for the rest of his life.

Now she sat upon the bed, her eyes red, sobs still clogging her throat. And it hurt him worse than anything had ever hurt him before.

"You didn't wait," he said, rushing to the bed and pulling her into his arms. She was small, curvy and sweet, smelling of strawberries and something spicy that he'd never been able to figure out.

"I-I couldn't. C-c-congratulations." She tried to pull away from him, ever vigilant even when he seemed to not notice the door he'd left open.

But he refused. He turned her face up to his, his hand on her chin and then he took her mouth, allowing all the passion and desire he'd kept bottled inside of him since the first time he realized how he felt about her.

"B-Ben, no..." she tried to say but he didn't let her, his tongue slipping between her parted lips, his hand holding the back of her head to keep her still. But soon it wasn't necessary and she was meeting his demands with some of her own, her hands moving over his chest and shoulders, digging into his hair.

The sound of his father's voice had her fighting to get away from him and she stared at Ben in fright. "D-dad..."

"I see you told her," Caleb Kozilinski said, clapping his hands together.

"T-told m-me?" she asked, trapped in Ben's dark eyes. "T-told me what?"

"I haven't had a chance Dad. But if you give us a few, I'll remedy that."

Sabra felt her jaw drop open as her father nodded and then took the door knob and closed the door behind him. It hung open as she stared back up at Ben.

He chuckled, too happy and eager to tell her of the wondrous news. He reached out and lifted her chin, closing her mouth for her before he turned toward the bed, making himself comfortable as he'd always done in Sabra's small room. Patting the spot he'd left next to him, he wiggled his fingers. "Come here and I'll tell you the rest of our good news."

The use of the word "our" seemed to hit her and she blinked. "Our good news?"

"Well, I consider it our good news but then again, I haven't had a chance to give you any hints or even warn you of what was coming because the Council refused to endanger you in any way. But if you come over her and kiss me, I might be coaxed into telling you." He patted the spot beside him again and then rose and pulled her down. "Come here, my love. I have a story to tell you."

Ben used his thumbs to wipe the stray tears away from her eyes and reached behind him to grab a tissue so that she could blow her nose. Pushing her hair behind her tiny shell-like ears, he bent his head again, the soft kiss that he meant to give her turning into one of heat and need that had her thighs spread and him between them, his hands full of her breasts, under her shirt.

Her body was arching into his, her hips moving rubbing against the heavy ridge that pushed at the zipper of his jeans. He was groaning, panting above her until he felt her tiny hands fumbling at the button of his pants. "No..." he growled, forcing himself away from her. He ended on the floor, next to her closet, his hands up and warning her back.

"God, I can't stop myself. We're going to have to get this wedding done quick," he breathed, rubbing his fingers through his hair. "I want you too damn much to believe."

"I don't understand, Ben. How is your getting married got anything to do with me? Incest is against all the beliefs of our people."

He chuckled but it was a hoarse sound. "It isn't incest if you aren't my sister."

Her eyebrows drew together and she stared at him as if he'd grown two heads. "How am I not your sister? We have the same parents."

"Nope, wrong again, love. Caleb and Kimber Kozilinski are my parents. Your parents died, your father protecting your mother while she was pregnant, your mother died in the birthing process. Mom and Dad petitioned the Council to be the ones to raise you, to keep you safe from any and all that wanted to hurt you. They never even told me of the secret." 

Sabra shook her head, her hands in fists in her lap. "I...I don't understand. Why all the secrecy? Why wasn't I safe? Who wanted to hurt me?"

Ben sighed again, mentally trying to force the desire that was throbbing fiercely through his veins into something containable enough so that he might get the rest of this out, to get her answer to the most important question he was ever going to ask her. 

"It is a long story, sweet Sabra." He held his hand up, showing her how it shook. "You do this to me. You make me long to be able to make you mine, physically as well as every other way. God girl, I think I've had a constant hard on since you turned fourteen. How you never knew what I was thinking or feeling, I'll never know."

A small smile touched her lips and she ignored his warning look, sliding to the floor to crawl toward him. "So we aren't related?"

Ben held up his hands, trying to keep her from touching him. But she ignored him, her hands going to the buttons on his shirt, pulling them open.

"Are we?" she asked again, moving closer so that she straddled his legs, her hands pushing open the sides of his shirt. He groaned when her lips touched the heat of his flesh, feeling her tongue moving against the heavy pulse at his neck. His hands went to her hips and he felt himself losing the fight over his own will.

"No," he sighed. "We aren't."

She smiled, her lips moving over his chest, her tongue lapping gently at the hard points of his nipples. "And you want to marry me."

It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact, startling him. "God yes, say you'll marry me." This time when her hands moved to the button on his jeans he had no will to stop her. He could barely find the will to breathe. But a smile curved his lips when he heard her reply.

"I'll marry you."

His hand scrabbled into the pocket of his jeans even as she slid down the zipper, her little hand pushing between the harsh fabric to trace the bulge covered only by the soft cotton of his briefs. He growled his pleasure, pulling the box that contained the ring he'd spent three days shopping for. It had to be perfect, not too big on her little hand but nothing that didn't shout how he felt about her.

He opened it, lifting her chin and taking her hand off his hard cock. "God, you're going to kill me before I even get a chance to put the ring on your hand."

"R-ring?" She dropped her gaze to the dark blue satin lining and the beautiful ring that it held. "Y-you really do want to marry me?"

"You said you would. Don't even try to take that back, Sabra Lynn. I love you and I'm not letting you weasel out on me." He took the ring from the box and grabbed her left hand, sliding the ring onto her tiny finger. It fit perfectly and he lifted it to his lips, kissing the sign of his love and the proof to all that she was his.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, staring at her hand in awe then up into his eyes. "I love you, too, Benjamin Braden Kozilinski. I promise to never weasel out on you."

"And to never leave me," he prompted, rubbing his hands over her back and drawing her closer to him. "It would kill me to lose you or to ever see you look like you did when I came in here tonight."

"I thought I was losing you and you looked so happy about it." She nuzzled against his neck, staring at the ring over his shoulder. It seemed almost fairytalish, a happily ever after ending to the dream she'd had since the first time she'd noticed what a stud her brother was and how much she loved him.

But he wasn't her brother. "You're not my brother and you'll love me forever," she whispered.

"I will, and ten years after that," he promised, lifting her chin to claim her lips. He pulled away only long enough to pull her shirt over her head, pulling the thickness of her hair around her slim shoulders. Then his tongue was dueling with hers, his hands slipping over the tiny strap that held her bra in place. "I want you so much," he groaned, tugging the fabric down her arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest and he thought he'd go up in flames. Her taste was on his lips, the feel of her breath against his skin. "Tell me you want me," he ordered.

"I do. I want you desperately." She pressed her breasts harder against him, groaning at the spurt of heat that it sent to her pussy. "I'm so w-wet," she admitted, feeling her cheeks turning pink.

He growled at her admission, his hands curving around her waist, drawing her to her knees. He found one tender nipple, the pretty pink bud rigid on his tongue. She was sweet, addictive and he didn't know how he'd be able to stop now that he'd had his first taste. He sucked her in, his cheeks hollowing, hearing her moans and feeling her hands dig into his hair, holding him against her. His tongue flicked over it, his teeth nibbling on the delicious treat.

Her head fell back, his name a hoarse moan on her lips. "More, baby. Please, I want more."

Ben's mouth moved to her other breast and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her easily in his strong arms. He laid her on the floor next to her bed, his lips never leaving the turgid tip. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she moved under him, her body gently undulating against him.

He lifted his head, grabbing for her hands as they tried to drag him back. "Wait, Sabra, honey." He held her still, staring into her eyes until they opened. "We should wait," he said softly, gently, not wanting her to think that he was rejecting her. "Do you want to be a virgin on your wedding night?"

Sabra's head was shaking before he even got to the end of the word "night". "Who says I am one now?" she teased, watching his eyes narrow and feeling him move up her body.

"Are you?" he asked sternly. "And you better have the right answer to that."

"And if I said no?"

"Then you'd be naming names and I'd be going out tonight to kick some butts. Now answer the question, Sabra Lynn Kozilinski."

"I am," she answered, almost laughing at the relief in his eyes. "Are you?"

"Yes," he said softly, watching her eyes flash to his face. "You were always the only one I ever wanted. Being with someone else would have been like cheapening what I feel for you."

"All those girls in high school, even Becca Sherman and no one got into your pants?"

He ducked his head and felt her hands on his cheeks lifting his face. "Why do you think Becca and I split up? She kissed me one night and I accidentally called her your name." He scowled as she laughed. "She told me to take her home and that she never wanted to see me again. She called me a pervert and at the time I could do little but agree with her."

"Maybe we should invite her to the wedding?" She giggled again but he didn't laugh with her. "What?" she asked when she saw the look on his face.

"I know you and Tash always talked about your weddings and that you were always going to stand up for each other. I remember hearing you talk about how you wanted a big dress and white roses. I even remember you talking about how Dad would walk you do the aisle. But baby, we can't have a big wedding. Not if I want to keep you safe." He smoothed her hair away from her face, watching her expression.

"So, what kind of wedding can we have?" she asked slowly.

"You and I, tonight. Mom and Dad can be there and you can give them a message for Tasha and anyone else. We'll go to the Council of Twelve and our honeymoon will be in the Temple. When it is safe, we can go and visit everyone and then have a huge reception if you want, or even renew our vows. I won't let you be hurt, Sabra. I love you too much." He held his breath while he waited for her answer.

"As long as you're there," she said softly, her hands cupping his face. "It will be beautiful."

He breathed a sigh of relief and went to kiss her again, jerking when she ducked his lips. "But..."

"Damn, why does there have to be one of those," he groaned.

"But," she said again, ignoring his sarcastic comments. "You get to tell Natasha why she couldn't be there. She's kept our secret for the past six months, baby." She laughed at the look of terror he had on his face. "Stop," she giggled.

"I'll buy her flowers or a puppy, or hell, a new car as long as you marry me tonight and I can have my wicked way with you." He found her lips, drawing her back into the heat of his passion. His hand were sliding down the ladder of her ribs when there was a knocking on the door.

"Ben? Sabra? Honey, the suspense is killing us out here."

Ben groaned at the sound of his mother's voice. Dropping his head next to hers, he groaned out a curse word that had Sabra giggling, even as her small little hands slid into the back of his jeans, cupping his ass. "She said yes, Mom," he called, hearing her knock on the door again. "We'll be out in a few minutes."

"Oh, wonderful," he heard his Mom sigh and he jerked as Sabra's sharp little nails dug into his skin. "Hey little cat, watch the nails." He pulled away from her with a groan, staring down at the wet spot that stained the front of his briefs. Tucking his cock in, her managed to button and zip his fly before reaching down to pull her to her feet. "God, if you don't get covered up, I'll never be able to walk," he teased, rubbing her hand over the ridge that wouldn't settle down. He dipped his head, pulling her nipple into his mouth again, hearing her moan.

Pulling away, he handed her the bra he'd removed from her earlier, then grabbed her shirt where he'd tossed it. "You know, it's almost a sin for you to wear clothes," he growled, kissing her mouth quickly but pulling away before she could take it any further. "Pack some clothes, Princess. We're leaving as soon as we can get Mom and Dad ready."

He picked up the stuffed bear she'd had since she was really little and held it in his lap as he perched on her bed. He watched as she pulled out a big roll bag and then started packing with an economy of motion he had to admire. She put her laptop in and then packed stuff around it, running into her bathroom to grab her toiletries.

She was done quicker than he could believe, retrieving her bear from Ben and tucking him in last. Then she stood in the center of the room and spun in a circle. "I just feel like I'm forgetting something," she said with a sigh, staring around at the room that she'd lived in for eighteen years.

"Mom and Dad will probably be up for a visit, anything you forget we can buy or they can bring us later, sweetheart. I just want to get on the road before it gets much later." He took her bag from her, pretending to stagger under the weight to hear her laugh. "Come on."

He tucked her hand in his and then went out the door waiting for her to turn off the light. Tugging on her hand, he pulled her down stairs where his parents were waiting to hug and kiss them both. Mom had her camera and she smoothed down their hair before taking enough pictures for a lifetime.

"We'll follow you back to the Temple, Ben," Caleb said, shaking his son's hand.

"What about my car?" Sabra asked suddenly, her hand on Ben's chest.

"I'll drive it down when it's safe, honey. Your safety is the most important thing. Otherwise the Council would have waited until after you graduated before springing this on you and Ben." Caleb let his hand cup her cheek, leaning down to buzz her soft skin with his lips.

"How much danger am I in?" Sabra asked suddenly, her frightened eyes going from Ben to the man she'd always thought as her father.

Ben took her hand, wrapping his around it. "I will never let anything happen to you," he said, bending his head down so that his forehead touched hers. "I will protect you with my life."

She kissed him, hearing her Mom sigh. Then she followed him out to his car, sniffing a little as she passed her Mustang. She got into the front seat of his car, seeing the garage door opening as Caleb and Kimber got ready to follow them. Ben turned on his cell phone, hitting a button on the speed dial and speaking to someone for a few moments before he backed down the driveway.




The Newborn Ch. 03



When he hung up, he smiled over at her and then grabbed for his seatbelt. "I can't wait to get you in my bed," he growled giving her a lecherous look. "All that teasing you've done to me for the past six months? Well tonight's my turn."

She laughed reaching over and letting her fingers play in the small amount of chest hair that was visible under his shirt. "Promises, promises," she purred.

He waited at the end of the driveway for one of the neighbors to drive by before leaning over and capturing her lips in a quick, heated kiss that spoke volumes of his feelings. "That one you can take to the bank, sweetheart."

* * * *

The trip to the Temple seemed to pass by quickly, Sabra and Ben talking like they had always done, a hint of sexual connotation beneath a lot of what they were saying. Ben pulled up the private gate that protected the Council of Twelve, the long driveway behind it leading to the Temple as well as the housing units.

When Ben had left home, he'd become an initiate, dedicating himself to the beliefs of his people and the craft that was so important to their way of life. He'd been given an apartment in the housing unit and had learned so much more of what was important to their coven. He'd been tattooed with the mark of the triple crescent, the same as the pendant that Sabra wore.

He punched in a code, waiting for the gates to begin to part, checking in his mirror before driving through. His father pulled in behind and Ben reached out of the window at another keypad, shutting the gates behind him. The drive was long and curved, a dense forest and swamp circling the temple and protecting the secrets of their coven. It wasn't surprising to see deer jump across the drive or watch a family of raccoon meander past. The wild life was tended as was the gardens and the yards around the temple.

All life was important to the Coven, something that was taught when a member was very young. It was to be respected and cherished. New life was rejoiced over, celebrated. The ending of a life was mourned though often, when a member passed from old age, their lives were more celebrated then mourned.

The Temple was where they worshiped. It housed the Coven, gave them succor and respite when needed. No one was turned away as long as the purity of their intentions was clear. Now the Council of Twelve came out of the Temple, filing slowly toward Ben's car as he parked close to the door.

Sabra was helped out of the car and she lifted her face, gracefully accepting the kiss of welcome from each of the Twelve.

"You are welcomed back here Sabra. Tonight is a night to celebrate."

"Thank you," she said, reaching for Ben's hand when he came around the car. "It is."

"Then come," one said, waving her forward.

She went toward the Temple, only stopping when Ben tugged on her hand. "I did remember this," he said softly, handing her a bouquet of beautiful white roses and pale purple lilacs, their scent perfuming the air. He kissed her gently then, nodded at the Council, leaving her in their care while he went to ready himself for their wedding.

There was a purification to be done and then a sacrifice of his blood, signifying the same sacrifice of blood that she would give when he took her veil. He turned only once as he headed into a side entrance to the Temple, smiling as she was safely escorted inside. He was suddenly grateful that his mother had interrupted them earlier. Tonight would be even more special and sacred because they were both pure for the other.

His heart was racing as he reached the small antechamber, noting that the Council had readied it for him. Going to the small altar, he knelt before the fabric covered table, taking the triple crescent and bowing over it before bringing it to his lips. Sacred words, private ones were spoken and he thanked the spirits for the blessing they'd given him, of Sabra and the gift of their love.

He begged forgiveness for the unpure and unholy thoughts he'd had of Sabra before he'd been told of the miracle of her birth. Then he rose and pulled his clothes off, smiling at the small stain in his briefs before tossing them in the bag provided for them. They would be taken, washed and returned to his apartment, clean and folded.

Stepping to the basin, he bowed his head, knowing that the water he was about to washed with had been purified by the First of the Twelve, a man who was called Deckor. He was the man who'd personally chosen Ben to become an initiate and had spoken for him in the service, an honor that befell few of the Coven.

Splashing the water upon himself, he spoke the words of purification, letting his mind grow blank as he performed the ancient rites. Only when he reached for the holy athemae, did his eyes grow sharp. Lifting the sharp blade, he passed it over the white pillar candle and then pressed the dagger tip to his hand.

It was a sign of his faith that he neither flinched nor winced as the blood flowed from his hand and he pressed it against the white cloth, leaving a bright scarlet stain. When he left the antechamber, the blood stained material would be taken into his bedchamber and laid across the mattress. Another dagger, a twin to the one he'd just used would be left there if the bride and groom hadn't waited for their wedding night, but it wouldn't be used tonight.

He would pierce that veil himself and he smiled wryly as his cock grew hard just at the thought. He'd been in a constant state of arousal since he'd spoken to the Council and they given their blessing upon the match.

He finished the ritual, quickly cleaning the small wound but leaving it unbound. That small wound was a thing to be proud of, for it spoke of his intentions and the feelings in his heart for his bride-to-be. 

Glancing at the clock upon the small mantle, Ben smiled. It was time.



The Newborn Ch. 04



Benjamin dressed himself slowly and carefully. Black cotton pants covered his black briefs and then a white shirt, simple with a knobby weave to the fabric. It was pulled over his head, and tucked into the pants. Sliding his hands down his chest, he straightened the shirt and then tied the ties that held it closed at his throat. He spun in front of the mirror, he wanted to look the part of the devoted bridegroom, anxious to see that none of the blood from his wound had stained the virginal white shirt. 

A sigh escaped his lips and he couldn't help but think again of what the Council had told him, of the danger that would follow him and Sabra until they finally were able to rid this world of such evil. He'd been warned that the battle wouldn't be easy and that he and Sabra could fail, dying horrible and slow deaths at the whims of a demon. 

But he'd kill Sabra himself before he allowed her to be tortured and scarred, damaged beyond hope. He would use the blade on her himself to give her a humane death, then he would fight the evil that threatened them. He would either kill or be killed, but either way, his Sabra would be safe. She wouldn't become the plaything of a monster.

"I swear," he whispered as he stared into his own face in the mirror. "I will take her life before I allow her to be tortured and abused."

The world ahead seemed to be almost two big for his two sturdy shoulders to bear. But he turned, glancing at the triple crescent, his hand brushing at his hip where that triple crescent had been tattooed. Their Coven might be small, it might even seem as if they belonged to one of those strange cults, ran by enigmatic but charming men who secretly held their own agenda.

But their craft was one that had been handed down in this way for millennia. It had existed back in the time of Christianity's beginnings. A Council had sat, making decisions and showing young and old alike that their ways were good, their decisions just and kind. Now their Council not only made decisions affecting the people in their Temple, they were also Lawyers, Doctors, even Politicians. The Temple believed in education for any and all who wished it. The money they spent training these people was never wasted. What they learned was always rewarding to the craft.

Ben brushed down his hair one last time, slipping on the black canvas slippers he would wear upon his feet and then reached out, lifting the white and black satin stole that would sit upon his shoulders, then it would be wrapped around his and Sabra's shoulders, binding them together.

A hollow sounding bell rang through the Temple and he hurried his step. It bespoke of his bride and her readiness to become his. A smile broke over his face. Sabra would be his. The thought was thrilling, almost mind numbing and he wished he had time to sit and bask in the glow, to know he was being rewarded, both by the Council and by the Gods they believed in.

He slipped through a side door into the Temple proper, bowing at each lavish altar that led to the one in the center. Twelve altars circled the lush and well appointed room, culminating in a raised dais where the Twelve now stood in a semicircle. Men and women alike, each had been chosen for the gifts they possessed, shared their knowledge amongst their kind and willingly made the sacrifice to live in the Temple, to care for their people, to settle arguments and to serve their Gods.

It was to Deckor that Benjamin now looked, taking his place before the tall man and returning his smile as he bowed his head in observance to the man's position. Deckor reached out, laying his hand with affection on the young man's shoulder, proud for his parents and the woman that loved Benjamin that he was the man he was. Ben would go far in the Temple. He'd already showed interest in Law and he would enroll in Law School after finishing up his prelaw classes.

A door at the far end of the room was opened and Kimber and Caleb Kozilinski walked inside, each holding the hand of a young woman. She was shrouded in robes of pale lilac and white, the flowers he'd given her now being used to guide her path to where he waited. There was nothing of Sabra that could be seen except for her eyes. But they were excited, sparkling and dancing in her joy.

Ben smiled, his hand going out as he walked to meet her at the foot of the dais. Kissing his parents, he took Sabra from them, brushing one of the many layers of cloth she wore from her shoulders to let it lie upon the floor.

She stepped from it eagerly, taking his hand to place it upon the hook that held the covering to her face. He unhooked it easily. He'd been practicing, worried that he would stumble or falter and shame himself and Sabra. Her radiant face was below this layer and he pulled the material gently away, letting it drop to his mother's hands.

Sabra held a single white rose in her hand. The bloom was large and perfect, its sweet scent rising to tickle his senses. Letting him help her up the steps of the dais, they now faced the Council of Twelve together.

Deckor stepped forward, his hand settling gently upon Ben and Sabra's heads. He smiled upon them before raising his voice to be heard throughout the room. "Benjamin and Sabra have asked to be joined before the Spirits that bless our people. Benjamin, what do you bring to this woman that no other could give her?"

"I give to her the love of my heart, the wisdom of my brain, the succor of my body and the gentleness of my hand as well as the fruits of my labors. If she is with me, she will never want physically or mentally. I will care for her with my life."

Sabra smiled up at him, hearing the suspicious sniffling sound coming from the woman she'd always thought of as her mother. Now she would be once more.

"Sabra, do you accept what this man is willing to give to you?"

Sabra's pretty eyes were bright and they met his easily and happily. "I do."

Deckor stepped back. The Third of the Twelve, a woman with the name of Kyla stepped forward. "The role of a woman in our society is not an easy one, Sabra. She is charged with the keeping of the home, the raising of the children and to do the bidding of her husband. She is no drudge or mindless toy to be used at his whim. Her role is more demanding, and as important as that of the man she loves. Do you, Sabra, understand what your role is?"

Sabra nodded, her eyes on Benjamin. "I will be your wife; I will gladly take you into my body and into my heart. I will bear your children and be faithful and true to you, Benjamin. I will be a true and devoted partner to you. And I will never stop loving you." 

Kyla nodded and smiled her acceptance to Sabra's words before she turned to Benjamin. "Do you accept what Sabra is willing to give to you?"

Benjamin stared into Sabra's eyes. "I do."

But he held up his hand when Deckor came to stand next to Kyla, to speak the blessing upon their heads. "I have one last gift that I would give to Sabra, if she will accept it.

Deckor and Kyla exchanged looks then Deckor nodded.

"I will protect you, Sabra, to the last drop of my blood, to the last breath in my body. I will fight this horror that has intruded upon our lives and I will not allow him to cast breath near you. You will be safe, no matter what I have to do to make you that way. You and our children will always be first." He lifted her hand, clasping it in his own. "You will always come first to me." Placing their clasped hands against his chest, he knew she could feel the beating of his heart. "With the beating of my heart, I vow this to you."

Sabra took a step closer to Ben and a tear formed in her eye, sliding down her cheek. He reached out, taking it upon his thumb. "You are my everything."

"You are mine," she said softly.

"Then with the power, the guidance and the approval of the three moons and the twelve spirits, I have the honor of accepting your vows and declaring you joined." He lifted a silken tie, draping it over their joined hands. "The silken tie is a symbol of the tie that joins you. It is strong, but soft, determined but forgiving. It resists even the most vigilant of efforts to be parted and, with care, will last a lifetime. Be as this silken tie. Remember always the love that has put you on this path, be determined to hold it strong and remember forgiveness. The road you step foot on is one that holds many pitfalls, but by keeping each to the other, you'll stay strong."

He bowed to each of them before stepping forward once more and kissing each on the forehead. "Step forth as a true couple of this temple and be acknowledged as husband and wife."

Kyla lifted the stole from Benjamin's shoulders, laying it gently across both his and Sabra's. "Never stray further than the width of this stole from the other, remain as faithful and pure as this silk. With care, the desire and need that you feel now will remain with you all the long years of your marriage. Remember, Sabra—Ben, it is not the wedding that it is important. It is the years after, years of hopefully joy and friendship, love and serenity. Do not forget that what you feel for the other is a special and lasting thing meant to grow and change. Do not be afraid of those changes. Face them together."

Caleb barely waited until Sabra and Benjamin turned before he reached up and swept her into his arms. "You've always been my daughter, now you are by fact as well as by what is in my heart. I am very happy for you." He whispered the words into her ear. 

Then Kimber was there and she hugged Sabra while Benjamin and Caleb hugged. "I'm going to miss you," she whispered. "Just love him and you'll be fine, Sabra."

"I do," she said. "I couldn't help myself." She cast a half guilty look at Ben, remembering how terrible they had both felt even when experiencing the joy of their first kiss, of finding out how they felt about the other. It had been a heart breaking and euphoric experience that she would never forget, but knowing now that she was his wife...that had joy singing in her veins.

She felt the tug of his part of the rope tugging on her wrist and she looked up, smiling as took her hand and pulled her closer to him. He tugged the rope from her arm, slipping it into the pocket of his pants. With his arms around her waist, he leaned down and kissed her gently. "My wife," he whispered. "Mine."

"And don't you forget it," she whispered back. She felt him lift her left hand and slip a small gold band next to the beautiful diamond he'd gotten for her.

"So you don't forget it," he teased.

Her smile was wide and beautiful and so full of love it took his breath away. "As if you'd let me."

He tugged on her dark hair, curling the silken tress around his finger. He only took his eyes off of her when his mother said his name, but he didn't let her go.

"We're going to say good-bye for now," Kimber let her hand rest against Ben's face, bending to touch her lips to Sabra's cheek. "I love you both." She glanced at her husband. "We both do."

"We love you, too, Mom," Sabra said, her hand going out to the woman who'd always been her mother. "I will always think of you as my mother."

"I always will be." She gave her a quick hug, letting Sabra go to watch her step into Caleb's arms. "We gave Ben the box that held your baby blanket and the note that was sent with you to the Temple that day so many years ago. It will tell you who your biological parents are and let you know who is trying to hurt you."

"But that is for tomorrow, tonight is for celebrating. We'll see you again soon," Caleb said. "You both stay safe." He gave Ben a pointed look then turned and pulled Kimber out of the room. When they were gone, Ben looked down up at his new wife. 

"Shall we go?" His voice was a husky whisper and he felt the thrill that went through her. "You're not cold?"

Sabra reached up, cupping his beloved face in her hands. "No, I don't think I've been cold since you came up to save me earlier tonight."

"Save you?" He eyes narrowed as he stared down at her, his brows furrowing.

"When you came in to tell me you loved me and that we'd be married. You saved me from a long life of loneliness, of being bereft and alone. I'd never have been able to come home, ever, in case your wife saw the way I looked at you. I just know she'd have seen it in my eyes."

Ben laughed. "What would you say about retiring? I have this desperate need to hold you in my arms and make love to you."

Sabra lifted the rose she still held, twirling the open bud beneath his nose so that the fragrance filled his senses. "I'd say that would be a wonderful idea, my love." She yawned artistically, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. "I find that I'm suddenly exhausted.

He kissed her quickly, taking her hand and making her laugh by how quickly he pulled her past the Twelve and out of the door of the Temple proper. He bowed his thanks to them so quickly she couldn't help but compare him to a Japanese man in a comedy that she'd seen. Then they were in the hallway that led to Unit Housing and he was tugging her until she was trotting to keep up.

"Ben," she giggled. "Stop."

He did and she almost slammed into him as he turned around. "What's wrong?"

The caution and fear in his voice had her smiling wildly. "I just don't want you wearing yourself out before we even get there," she teased.

Ben stared down at her for a moment then he scooped her up in his arms, easily holding her high upon his chest. Turning, he continued his almost headlong flight toward his apartment. Her laughter trailed along behind and then down the stairs as he took them two at a time. By the time he stood outside his door, digging in one of his pockets for his key, she'd gotten very comfortably in his arms. "I could grow used to this."

"What, me carting you around to keep you moving?"

"No, having my very own transportation."

"Enjoy it now, you may not like the fee."

"What fee?" she asked, her voice growing husky.

Ben pulled the key from his pocket, unlocking the door while he held her with one arm. Then he pushed it open with his foot, his arms both securely around his wife.

"I can't think of any fee you could think of that I wouldn't like."

"What if I want breakfast in bed?" he asked, nuzzling his nose against her neck. He waited a second then finished. "...with you as the plate?"

"It might be worth smelling like maple syrup all day, as long as you lick your plate clean," she teased.

He groaned and she tugged his head down, wanting to feel his lips. "You haven't kissed me in ten minutes," she complained. "I guess it's true, when the silk is tied the romance is over."

Ben carried Sabra down the short front hallway, barely giving her a glimpse of the living room or the kitchen area. Instead, he turned into a room that seemed almost on fire. Hundreds of candles lined the walls and covered almost every hard surface of the room. Their scent, spicy and fresh, hung in the air. The bed had been turned down and rose petals and lilac petals had been scattered across the fresh surface. The white fabric he'd stained earlier with his blood was tucked across the bottom part of the sheet, waiting for them. "You're not scared, are you?"

Sabra felt him gently set her down on her feet as she thought of how to answer that. Every girl is a bit afraid of her first time. Something painful and bloody is never pleasant. But Sabra knew that Ben wouldn't hurt her unduly and that she'd have the same wonderful pleasure he'd given her at other times, with his hand and mouth.

"I'm not frightened, not of you and what we do here tonight. I know you won't tear into me or hurt me unconsciously. You are a loving and wonderful man, Benjamin. I know this. It's part of what draws me to you, what made me long so terribly much to be your bride when I thought it would never be allowable." She snuggled closer to him.

But Ben wanted to see her eyes and he lifted her chin. "You do know I had plans to kidnap you after you graduated. I've been putting money aside so that we might go somewhere new, somewhere that no one would know us or know that we were brother and sister. Sabra, I can't live my life without you as mine. I have to have you at my side, as one with me. You're my other half and you have my heart. I love you."

"I love you," she answered, a bit stunned by what he planned on going through just to be with her. "Aren't you glad all that isn't necessary?"

"Yes," he sighed. "Now I can quit eating bologna and beans for every meal."

Sabra laughed even as a thrill shivered through her. "Make love to me," she whispered shyly. "Make me a woman, your woman. It's all I've ever wanted to be."

He groaned at her words and his head dipped, his lips covering hers as a rush of heat plowed into his stomach. He could feel the softness of her curves under the robes she wore and he wanted badly to feel them against his skin as he had earlier. But this time, he wanted to touch her everywhere. He wanted to suffuse himself with her scent, lose himself in the feel of her flesh. He wanted to make her a woman as much as he wanted her to make him a man.

With gentle and shaking hands, he reached up; pulling the combs that had held her hair up during the ceremony. They were beautiful, carved from ivory, and he knew they'd been a gift from the Twelve so he carefully set them down on one of the bedside stands. Her hair was thick, shining with sable highlights, soft and silky against his hands. Ben wanted to lose himself in there, to breathe the soft strawberry smell of her hair and never look back.

His fingers met hers at the frogs of her robe, the simple toggle and hoop that held the sides together. His hands were shaking even worse as he slowly undid each fastening, feeling the heat of her skin and seeing the deep purple of the lingerie she was wearing under it. "What is this?" he asked slowly when he tugged the two edges aside.

She was a vision in Royal purple, a satin and lace bra cupping her breasts the way his hands itched to do. More lace and purple satin hugged her hips extending down to tiny purple bows to her garter belt. "A present from Mom. She knows that you love purple so she told me she wanted to give you something to unwrap."

Benjamin growled, his fingers itching to just yank off the satin that covered her lush curves. But he knew his Sabra, his wife. She would want to keep this set, to wear it at other special occasions to remind herself of this night.

"Tell her she was lucky I didn't rip the paper." Her gasp of giggles was lost against his mouth and she could do nothing but moan as he tugged her almost naked body against his, his hands rubbing across her back, tugging her hips to grind against the ridge that tented out the front of his pants.

Her fingers untied the bow at his neck and then she was tugging on his shirt, pulling it up and over his head when he bent down for her to reach him. His chest was wide and strong, a man's chest with a trickle of chest hair that started between his flat brown nipples and ended under his belly button.

Sabra had always said she had a stud for a brother and now she knew it was true. He was hard and muscular, his body toned and tough. It had always given her a thrill to touch his skin and he was there for her to do that now, every inch of his hot, hair roughened skin, hers for the taking. She could hear his moans and wanted to hear more. She wanted to hear him come.

Stepping from the circle of robes that now lay upon the floor; she pushed him gently backward until he fell across the wide bed. Straddling his legs, she felt his hands move up her own legs, over the silk nylons that had come with the set. Her fingers were sure and true upon the belt and button on his pants, trembling only slightly when she reached for the small metal tab that worked his zipper.

"What are you doing?" he groaned hoarsely, lifting his head to watch her.




The Newborn Ch. 04



"I'm making love to my husband." Her voice was strong, her hands tugging apart the wide 'v' of his zipper. She scooted back further, tugging on the soft cotton, pulling the pants off of his legs as he kicked off the canvas slippers.

"I thought it was the husband's job to make love to the wife?"

"Oh, we'll get to that sooner or later as well, baby. Tasha was telling me about something her and her ex-boyfriend used to do and I've always wanted to try it."

"Tasha and her ex had sex?"

Sabra laughed at the look of surprise upon his face. "No, which is why she used to do this for him." She grabbed the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down, her eyes growing big as she saw what she'd been feeling against her body for so many months. "It's huge."

"No, Sabra," Ben laughed, incredibly turned on by what she was doing. "It's respectable."

She straddled his legs again, leaning down further, unable to take her eyes off of his hard cock. Her hands were soft, moving over his thighs before she gently touched the thick shaft. "Then let me respect it," she whispered, her hot breath blowing over his skin.

He shivered under her, his palms itching to finish stripping her clothes off. His body was rigid with the desire to take her, to make her his physically. But he wanted her to feel desire to touch and taste him as well. He wanted her to know that he enjoyed what she did, so he forced himself to stay on his back, locking his arms behind his head so that he might watch what she did.

The first touch of her hand, the sight of those little fingers stroking over his cock was testament to his desire not to scare her. He could feel his pre-cum running down from the head of his cock and he wanted nothing more than to flip her over and push through that tiny veil.

"It's so hard, but so soft, too." She whispered the words to him, one hand lying across his belly while the other stroked his cock. "Tell me what you like, Ben. I'm a little on virgin territory here.

"Y-you want me to tell you how I...how I masturbate?"

Sabra smiled, hearing the embarrassment in his voice. "I don't want to hurt you."

He reached down, wrapping his fist around hers hesitantly. A moan was torn from his throat as he felt the tiny fingers meet around his cock, the heat of her fist, the fact that it was Sabra's skin on his cock, had him on a hair trigger. His breathing grew ragged as he drew her hand up and down his shaft, showing her what he liked. His moans were harsh, indicating his pleasure to her in no uncertain terms.

"God! Sabra! Natasha does this?"

"And more," she whispered, never losing her stroking movements on his cock even when she reached up to kiss his lips. "She uses her...mouth."

His head slammed back against the pillow and he gritted his teeth, his fists digging into the material of the sheets to keep from grabbing her and pulling her under him. His toes curled and he felt the deep, almost impossible to resist, urge to come. "Sabra..." he growled. "Wait."

Her breath was teasing him, blowing across the flared, hyper-sensitive tip of his cock. He felt the incredible softness of her tongue and moaned again, unable to stop himself.

"Why should I wait? I want this, Ben. I want to watch you come. Is that...wrong?"

"No," he groaned, his head rolling back and forth against the mattress. "No, nothing we want is wrong anymore, baby. It's just...God. Just that I...I've never done this before either and I don't want to disgust you."

His eyes refocused on her face in time to see the smile that crossed her pink lips, lips that were so close to his cock, he could almost feel the heat of them. "You could never disgust me, Ben. Never even think that way." She rose over him again, letting her breasts press against his wide chest as she kissed his lips. "I had plans on becoming yours tonight even if we hadn't married."

Ben growled as he heard that little secret and he began to roll, wanting to taste her skin, to strip her bare of the pretty purple concoction she wore.

But her hands stopped him and she moved down his body again, slowly. Her lips led the way, tasting the somewhat salty flavor of his skin, smelling his arousal in the air around his body. She moaned her own passion, loving this surge of power she felt. Her little tongue was like a tiny firebrand against his skin, tickling his abdomen and the crease where his thighs met his body before swiping over the tip of his cock.

She moaned her approval of his taste, her lips coming to press down over the flared glans, moving even further down the stiff, thick shaft.

Ben was losing his mind. The heat of her mouth was so much more than what he'd expected, the little noises she was making driving him mad with want. She seemed so much the little sex kitten, using her fingers, her nails, the tips of her breasts, all to drive him so much closer to the point of no return. He opened his mouth, meaning to tell her everything she was making him feel but all that emerged was a tormented moan. He couldn't articulate enough to even speak her name, or to warn her how close he was to coming.

His hips moved of their own volition, against his will, pushing upward, wanting to push his cock even deeper into that heated suction. She moaned again and he growled his delight, tangles of vibrations causing his entire body to tense, the little hairs on his arms and legs standing at attention with the pleasure of it.

Her head moved, her gorgeous lips forming a widely space "o" around him. She bobbed over him as if she'd done this before, her tongue flicking against the thick vein that ran up the underside of his cock.

"By all the spirits!" The words were torn from his mouth and he shuddered, unable to stop the outpouring ejaculate as it exploded from his throbbing prick. It filled her mouth but she didn't draw away, swallowing roughly and pushing as far down as she could on his jerking shaft.

When it was done, he reached down, drawing her up so that she lay against his heaving chest. "Tasha taught you that?"

"No, she told me about it." She kissed his lips, swallowing again before allowing her tongue to touch his mouth. "You liked?"

"Give me a minute or two and I'll show you how much," he vowed. His hands roamed over her, finally following the strap that wrapped around her body and unhooking her bra. He moaned as he felt her bared mounds pressing against his skin, her nipples like hard pebbles. "You've got way too many clothes on," he complained lightly.

She glanced down at the tiny triangle of purple silk and lace that barely cover the soft hair of her mound and the tiny bits of straps that held on her thigh highs. His hands stopped her from rolling off of him, intending to remove the offending garments herself.

"Oh no, you're my present to unwrap. I used to let you get away with unwrapping my birthday and Christmas presents when you wanted to, but this one is all mine." He rolled her under him, kissing her soft lips, his tongue investigating the deep recesses of her mouth.

"Hurry," she begged when he let loose of her lips, his mouth moving down to her throat, tasting her skin with pleasure. He suckled gently against her soft skin. 

"Now why would I do that?" he asked, barely glancing at her face. "I've been waiting to get my hands on you forever."

There was a note to his voice that set her heart to pounding. It was almost as if he wasn't Benjamin anymore and his words held a deeper, more malevolent meaning. Sabra lifted her hands, pressing against his chest but he easily held her down. A deep chuckle swelled in his chest and her body tensed even more.

"Ben! Benjamin!"



The Newborn Ch. 05



"No, Benjamin! Stop!" Sabra cried out the words, her hands going to his hair and digging in, tugging him away from her. She pulled his head up so that she could look into his soft green eyes, seeing them hard and strange. He wasn't the man she'd married, something else was in there as well, something so malevolent that it sent chills of terror through her. "Who are you?" she demanded.

Ben smiled, his lips spreading and his tongue peeping out. "Who do you think I am, Sabra? Tell me that?"

The tenor of his voice had changed and she felt the evil that had taken him over like the chilled touch of tinfoil against her teeth. His head bent again while he waited for her answer and his mouth opened over her nipple, tugging it deep into his mouth, suckling hungrily as if he were trying to nurse from her.

"No!" she shouted again, but this time her hand came up and she struck out at whatever it was that had taken over her husband. "Don't touch me!"

Ben's head came up and he giggled, the sound creepy and evil. "You will come to me, Sabra. I don't know how they hid you for all these years but I've been searching for a newborn, not someone so fucking sexy as you." He growled as Sabra struck out at him again, reaching out for her hands. "Now, slow down, sweetheart. You don't want to hurt your new husband, do you?"

Sabra felt her fear increasing. Whoever had taken over Benjamin, he was cruel and he was strong. Her heart was racing and she did the only thing she could think of doing. Reaching around her neck, she lifted the triple crescent pendant and then pressed it down in the center of Benjamin's chest.

His scream was shrill, tortured and his body stiffened, smoke rising from the holy symbol on his chest. His hands tried to pull at hers, desperate to rid himself of the pain that she was giving him.

Moments later, he lay relaxed under her, his hands turning to take hers. He brought the crescents to his lips, kissing the symbol of their faith. "It's all right now," he said softly, kissing her hands and then her fingers. "It's me, Sabra. It's Benjamin."

She sobbed, her eyes closing before she relaxed against him, her arms going around his neck. "Who was that? Who was inside of you?"

Benjamin sat up, pulling her across his lap so he could hold her. He rocked her gently, slowly, his hands moving over her back. "It was the evil, Sabra. It was the thing that wants you."

Sabra lifted her head, seeing the triple crescent mark that had been burned into his chest. Tears slid down her cheeks. "I...I hurt you."

"You stopped him." He slipped his hands up, cupping her face. "You stopped him, Sabra. You don't understand yet. You are all that is important. You, Sabra. No one else."

"B-but..."

Benjamin kissed her gently. "No buts, my love. The prophesies have been written about you. You are the one that will save us all." His fingers stroked over her hair, his thumbs wiping over her cheeks to wipe away the tears. "I love you, Sabra."

She grabbed his dark brown curls, pulling his head down so that she could reach his lips. She kissed him with everything that was inside of her, hearing his moans. The fear was still inside of her but her love for him was stronger than the fear and she twisted her mouth, pushing her tongue into his mouth. "Love me," she moaned.

His hands were on her slender waist and he tugged her even closer. "I do," he said against her mouth. "I always will." His hands were gentle as they lifted her enough to pull free the garter belt and then tug off her last bit of clothing, the tiny purple thong. His hand brushed against the softness of her mons, trailing his fingers through the soft hairs until he found her slit. 

She was wet, slick against his finger and he gathered that moistness, using it to dampen her clit. His finger flicked against that tender bud and he felt Sabra squirm on his lap, unused to any touch but her own. With him, the touch was more sensual, seductively sweet and she whimpered beneath his lips, begging for more.

"Do you want me?" he growled, barely able to get the four words out. Remembering that she was a virgin and his wife was all that went through his mind and he ached to take her, to thrust through that small membrane and make her his woman.

"Y-yes," she cried. "I-I want you." Her hands dug into his hair and she held on tight as his lips moved down the soft column of her neck. His teeth were sharp as they nipped at her soft flesh and she couldn't stop the moan that tore from her lips. Her body arched against him, giving him every access he could want. And he took advantage of it, his lips moving from her throat to her shoulder.

His hands filled with her breasts, squeezing the soft but firm flesh. Her nipples were hard, pressing insistently into his palms and he slid his hands down until he took her nipples between his fingers. "I've dreamt about you, when I had to leave you. You haunted my dreams, Sabra."

"Tell me," she moaned, arching her back when he twisted her nipples. Her breath became raspy and quick and little whimpers came from her mouth.

"You haunted me, constantly teasing me with this body. You'd kneel above me and rub your sweet, little pussy just out of my reach. I wanted you so badly, Sabra. It was my own little piece of heaven and hell to watch what you were doing to yourself."

Sabra used his chest to brace herself, kneeling over him, only closer than she did in his dreams. He could smell the sweetness of her arousal, see as her tightly furled pussy began to swell. When she slipped a finger through her virginal slit, Ben felt as if his heart would stop beating.

"God, baby. Yes, just like that." He grabbed her hips, sliding down until he could lift his head and let his tongue press against her pussy, pushing into her slit to taste her arousal. He heard her moan and then felt her hips begin to move. She couldn't hold still, not with the things he was doing with his mouth.

His nose pressed against her clit as he licked her from one hole to the other. It was hard, begging for his mouth, for his teeth, her scent driving him wild. His mouth was hot on her, suckling her clit, his teeth nibbling at that sweet treat. He felt her shaking against him and smiled, knowing that she was close, wanting to push her past and into that dark chasm of bliss. He smiled darkly as he heard her cry out his name and felt her hands digging into his chest.

"Oh...Oh!" she cried. "Benjamin!" Her body shook and he knew she was feeling the shards of perfect pleasure of her first orgasm given at his hands.

"Yes," he smiled. He easily lifted her up, holding her against him as she collapsed in his arms.

"Oh, Ben. That was..." She sighed heavily...unable to finish the sentence.

"Not over with yet, Sweet Sabra." He watched as her eyes opened and she stared up at him in amazement. 

"More?" The word was almost a whimper and it made his smile even wider. Learning the madness of making love with her was infinitely fascinating. His cock throbbed against the silky skin of her stomach. He needed her as much if not more than what he had earlier.

"Yes, love. Definitely more." He rolled, sliding on top of her soft body, her thighs parting almost naturally for him to slide between them. He could feel the steamy heat of her pussy against his cock and he gasped, wondering if he could keep himself from falling upon her like a starving wolf. His hips moved slowly, bathing his cock in the seeping juices of her cunt.

Sabra gasped, her hands coming up to grasp the hard strength of his upper arms. Her face was a study of concentration with just a hint of fear.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered against her ear.

She smiled. His concern was sweet, the heat of his breath against her ear sent shivers down her spine. She could smell herself on him and it sent a shiver of pleasure. "I'm not afraid, Ben," she moaned. "I know you won't hurt me too much and then what we'll do together will be mind blowing." Her foot slid up the back of his leg then trapped his hips with her thighs. "I want you too." She ducked her head, kissing the marks she'd burned into his chest, the triple crescent branded there for the rest of his life. It would always remind her of this night, the night she became his in body. She'd been his in every other way since the first time she realized how wonderful he was.

"You're sure?" he asked even as the head of his cock seemed to wedge against the tiny opening of her pussy

Sabra moaned. "Yes, baby. Fuck me."

Her use of that crass word drove him over the edge. His mouth covered hers, his hands moving to hold onto her hips and he thrust against her, feeling her stiffen under him. Her nails dug into his arms, leaving tiny half moon welts.

She was tight around him, that tiny membrane popping easily. The urge to drive himself into her was fierce, the desire to claim her as his and only his almost outweighing his need for her safety. He panted, trying to calm those urges, to give her time to get used to being a woman, his woman.

"Are you all right?" he groaned, holding himself above her. They were only joined by a few inches of his cock.

She moved under him as the pain slowly subsided and the beauty of his claiming superseded everything else. He was inside of her, feeling impossibly huge, incredibly hard. Tiny flickers of heat began to pulse deep inside of her and she wanted more. "Yes. Oh," she whimpered, trying to force him to move inside of her, against her. "Ben..."

He moved his hips cautiously, pulling back just the tiniest amount, the friction between them making his heart race and his body tighten. "You feel amazing."

"Then feel more of me," she demanded, thrusting her hips up to meet his.

Ben tried to be gentle, he tried to take it slow but she was urging him on, her hands roaming over his body, her hips undulating under his with a siren's grace. She was driving him mad, a blissful, sensual insanity that he never wanted to give up. Her little moans and whimpers were the sexiest thing he'd ever heard and his body plundered hers, driving deeper, ever deeper of her heat.

His eyes were closed, only to fly open when she pushed at his chest. "Sabra? What...?"

"Roll over," she demanded. She held onto him as he did as she bid, sitting up across his loins, feeling him slide even deeper in this position. Her hands rested on his chest and she watched his eyes as he took in the way she looked. His hands went to her hips and he urged her to move, grinding her soft little cunt against him.

His growl was almost feral and she moved over him, fucking him. "Is...Is this okay?"

"Any more okay and I'd be dead." The words were growled against her lips as he tugged her down. "My wild little Sabra."

"Yes, yours," she groaned. She could feel the upcoming orgasm just beyond her reach and she sat back up, taking hold of his hands and twining her fingers with his. "Yours," she repeated almost helplessly, her movements quickening. She was chaotic against him, thrusting harder and harder down at him, her cries growing and turning into whimpers.

He dug his heels into the mattress, his hips stroking against her with desperate need. The back of his hand, still twined with hers, slid up the front of her body, capturing her nipple against his fingers. He pinched it, just hard enough to make her gasp.

The first trembling tingles of bliss surged through him and he pushed his head into the pillow, arching against her. She cried out and he could feel the muscles of her pussy tighten around him then flutter, drawing him every deeper. His seed surged through the hard flesh of his cock, filling her spasming womb with the heat of him.

His eyes focused upon her face, her bliss easily seen upon her delicate features. She seemed frozen in time, lost in the ecstasy they'd found together. Then she crumbled, her body too heavy to hold up, her head resting against the hollow in the curve of his shoulder. Sweat held them together like glue and his hands moved over her back, stroking, caressing her.

"Are you okay?" he whispered against her hair.

"Mmm," she moaned, nodding her head. "You?"

"Any more okay and I'd be dead." He chuckled huskily, reaching down to straighten out her legs so that she rested against him completely, her weight a pleasant anchor. "You're pretty wonderful."

Sabra kissed his shoulder and then snuggled even closer to him. "Can we stay right here forever?"

Ben pushed her hair away from her face, staring down into her half closed eyes. "It might get a bit smelly after the first couple of days."

She sighed. "Always the realist."

"But I love you," he added, seeing the smile that crossed her face.

"I will never grow tired of hearing you tell me that."

"Good. I'll never grow tired of saying it."

* * * * Across town, Deanna sat inside her bedroom, hearing the voices of her parents as they fought. Her mother had come home drunk again and it infuriated her father. There was the sound of a large bang, as if someone had dropped a heavy book onto the linoleum. Then she could hear her mother crying.

"You promised, never again you said," she screeched.

"Then quit your fucking drinking. Come home and be a decent parent to your daughter."

Ha! Deanna thought. As if he had the right to speak of decencies. He'd fucked her three ways to Sunday today. How was that being a decent parent to her?

"Deanna is fine," her mother shouted. Then there was the sound of running feet and a door slamming. 

Her father's voice rumbled through the house. "Good! Stay gone!"

Deanna glanced at her door, hurrying over to slip the lock so that he couldn't get in without her knowing. She didn't trust him, not after what he'd put her through. She wasn't a hypocrite, she knew she'd begged him to fuck her and that she'd enjoyed what he'd done. But it was a sin and not one that she wanted to repeat.

The quiet after the fighting seemed absolute and she jumped when a sudden loud rapping came upon her door. "Deanna, open the door."

Even knowing he couldn't see her, she shook her head, determined to keep him out. When he slammed his fist against the door, she jumped, glancing back at the solid portal with fearful eyes.

"No," she shouted, suddenly finding her voice. "Stay away from me!"

"Oh baby, you don't want that and we both know it. Open the door."

Deanna glanced around the room, searching for a place to hide. Her body was beginning to act as if it had no time to listen to her mind. Her pussy was growing wet and she reached down, sliding her fingers over the damp slit beneath her panties. "No," she moaned, hating herself almost as much as she hated him.

"Deanna, do not make me break down this door. I will do it and you know I will. If I have to go to that extreme, you will be sorry."

"Leave me alone!"

She could hear the disappointment in his voice and watched as the door rattled against his bulk, shaking under the pressure of his shoulder. He hit it three times and then the frame cracked, a piece breaking off and flying across the room. Then Dean Schlock stood framed in the battered door frame. "Come here."

Deanna backed away. "No, Daddy. Please, it's wrong."

"It wasn't so wrong when you were begging me to fuck you." Dean strolled into the room, moving toward her as she searched frantically, looking for a weapon or a place to hide that he couldn't reach her. But it was no use. Within seconds, his hard hands grabbed her arms, dragging her over to her bed before sinking down on the mattress and yanking her down across his lap.

Deanna struggled but she was no match for his strength. He held her across his lap easily, one hand tugging at the hem of the night shirt she was wearing. It was pulled easily up and over the rounded hips of his daughter, leaving her slender hips little covered by the tiny white cotton thong she'd put on after her shower.

Dean groaned at the sight, his hand rubbing over one pale cheek. "Only sluts wear panties like these," he growled. "Sluts and whores, Deanna, which one are you?"

"Neither, Daddy. Please don't do this." She struggled even harder, his wide hand covering part of her ass, his thick fingers pushing between her thighs.

"Oh you're one or the other, Deanna." He moaned as he felt the wetness that dampened her pussy. "Now you've only to decide if you want paid or if you want to do it for free."

She grabbed his hand, desperately trying to pull it free from her flesh, to push him off of her struggling body. "I was a virgin, Daddy! I've only been with you!"

"Then it won't hurt you to be with me again!" Dean smiled at his pretty daughter, his thick middle finger flicking at the hard bud of her clit. She was hot and she wanted him, but the crap his wife had force fed her, about how good girls didn't want sex, well it had fucked her up. He held her still with the hand that plucked lazily at her clit, using his other hand to free his straining cock from the pants he'd worn to work.

Deanna strained even harder to be away, breathing a huge sigh of relief when she heard the buzzer on the door sound. Dean's head came up and he growled his disgust. "You stay here. I'll get rid of whoever it is and then I'll be back. If I find you gone and have to go looking for you...well let's just say you don't want to be on the other side of that whipping. Got me?"

She nodded, cringing as he pushed that one thick finger into her cunt, groaning as the tight flesh clung to his skin. "Good girl," he said, patting his hand over her lightly clad pussy. "Get undressed and into my bed, Deanna. I'll be back in a minute." 

She lay where he left her, shock making it almost impossible for her to move. She'd never thought her father would want to do this with her again, even after what he'd said to her. Now, with her mother gone, she had no defense against him. A sob shook her shoulder and she got up slowly, staring around her room, trying to figure out what she should do.

Her eyes widened when she heard her father begin to come back up the stairs. She hadn't moved and she was shaking badly. Men's voice came to her from the hallway and she saw her father hesitate as he saw her still in her room. "Oh, Deanna. I completely forgot that Mr. Redman and Mr. Peters were coming over tonight." 

He stepped in the room, followed by the two men. For only a moment she wondered if she were saved. Her father wouldn't force her in front of someone else, he just wouldn't. But then she saw the look in their eyes and watched as Mr. Redman, a man she'd always considered attractive, reach down and adjust his cock that was tenting out the front of his dress pants.

"Your father told us about your actions earlier today, Deanna. He's hoping that we can put a bit of the "fear of God" back into you." He squeezed his hand around the wide ridge in the front of his pants and stepped toward her.

They stalked her, surrounding her and pushing her back against the wall, her eyes huge as hands reached out to touch and stroke her skin. "No," she whispered, struggling against the hands that were stripping off her nightshirt, coming out to squeeze and play with her sensitive breasts. "Please don't."

Their laughter held a hint of evil and she knew escape was beyond her reach, closing her eyes as Mr. Peters pushed her down to her knees and the head of his thick cock touched the softness of her lips. She opened her mouth, cringing at the taste as he pushed in against her tongue. Behind the three men, she heard the sound of laughter. It was evil in its purest form and tears slipped down her cheeks as she felt the first surge of pleasure from their rough hands and hard cocks.

She was damned and there was no escape.



The Newborn



"It's so nice to see you two getting along."

Ben tugged on Sabra's slightly mussed curls. "Well, she wasn't the puppy I wanted but I guess she has her perks."

Sabra turned, narrowing her eyes at her brother. "Yeah, and he doesn't seem as obnoxious now that he doesn't live here."

"Oh just feel the love in this room," Kimber Kozilinski quipped. "Your Dad just pulled into the driveway."

Ben hesitated a bare moment to glance at Sabra and then he hustled out of the room.

"He didn't tell you what his big news was, did he?" Kimber asked.

"Big news? What big new?" Sabra reached out and took her mother's hand, shocked to feel how cold it was.

"I don't know, sweetheart. When he called to say he was coming home for a weekend, he said he had big news. I thought for sure that he'd have told you. You two have gotten so close in the past year or so." She reached out and straightened one of the plates before going to the cupboard to grab a pitcher to fill for the table. "I guess we'll both have to wait until he's ready to tell us."

Sabra nodded and then sank down in one of the chairs as her mother left the dining room. A shiver passed through her and she suddenly felt like crying. Suddenly, she wasn't so anxious about hearing Ben's news.

She rose only as her mother came in with a pitcher of ice water. "I'm going to change clothes, Mom. I'll be down before dinner."

Kimber nodded, dropping a kiss on her daughter's cheek. Then she finished setting the table.