This is not yet finished, and thus subject to change.
--
Lucretia - darkness is beautiful
by brutus
Lazy Sunday. Or rather, lazy, hung-over Sunday. Nothing quite like it,
eh? The sneaking headache, the apparent holes in the memory, the
paranoia. It's a one of a kind experience, and I really don't enjoy it
much. Guess nobody does. I do, however, enjoy the lazy sundays, even
with the solid hangover to top it off. This particular sunday I spent
in the garden. I was proud of my garden, and took pride in keeping it
in top condition. Nothing would calm me as much as a few hours among
roses and sunflowers. I kept a small hedge in the front, separating
the garden from neighbours and the street, even though it was too low
to ensure any kind of privacy. The backyard was a different story,
however, with a tall and hedge ensuring privacy from all sides.
It was so tall, that you had to be on the roof or in the normally
abandoned lofts of the nearest neighbours to get a peak. It was
wonderful to just lie there in the sun, oblivious to the rest of the
world.
The hangover was nearly gone, and I had dared to move to frontyard,
mostly because the sun was gone in the back. Lazily I waited for the
day to pass. Starting to feel good and quite satisfied with not having
anything to do this day.
It was at this moment that my new neighbours moved in. The furniture
had arrived a few days earlier, but apart from the furniture removers,
no one had appeared. Not until this moment, that is.
I had to approve of the way they'd handled it. Nothing is more boring
than moving; take it from me. I have done that quite a lot. So why not
put it away? Let some firm handle the boring details instead, and use
your energy on unpacking - that's the fun part of it anyway!
Feeling better than I had all day, I dared approach my new neighbours
as they unloaded the car with all the leftover stuff. I was a bit
disappointed at first, seeing that they were quite a bit than
me, somewhere in their fifties. Then again, I wasn't very surprised.
After all, I am the one who stands out in the neighbourhood, being a
single 30 year guy. It's a wealthy neighbourhood, somewhere in the
upper mid-class; all houses, no appartments. Thus, most houses are
occupied by retired couples and well-off families, usually with no
more than one or two kids.
My disappointment wore off quickly as I approached them. Their smiles
were contagious and the energy radiating from them was filled me with
an exhilarating feeling. Before we shook hands I knew I would like
this couple. I've never been able to explain it, but sometimes such
feelings just hit me. It's like I know exactly how a person is, even
before meeting them. I'm rarely mistaken when that feeling hits me. I
would enjoy the company of my new neighbours. I was sure of it.
The man, George, had a firm handshake, and up close his smile was even
warmer. He had probably never lost a hair in his life, at least it
looked like it was all in place, but whatever the original colour had
been, nothing was left of it now. His head was full of silvery curls.
He looked a bit tired, and I knew without asking that they had
travelled far.
His wife, Evelyn, had a softer, femine handshake, but firm enough not
to make me feel bad. I don't know why, maybe it's my up-bringing, but
a really weak handshake makes a bad impression, whereas a firm
handshake rarely makes any impression. Everything about Evelyn was
soft. Her face gave an immediate impression of goodness. Her body was
plump and round, and just made me want to hug this woman very hard.
She wore a plain, white summer dress and a simple golden cross hung
around her neck. Not being religous myself, I have no problems with
whatever other people believe, as long as they don't push it on me.
Something told me she would not do that.
Their showed up just as I was about to offer my help,
stopping me mid-sentence. The events that happened next would change
my life completely. They're still kind of blurry, but I'll try to give
as good account of them as possible, since everything in this is
a consequence of the strange and confusing conversation between me and
the girl.
She was a small girl, only about 5'5", but with fully developed
womanly curves, accentuated by a simple black skirt and blouse. Her
long hair was raven black, with an occasional light-brown streak. She
was preoccupied with something the first few seconds as she came
around the car, but froze the moment she noticed me. Cocking her head
and breaking up in soft smile with her full lips, coloured dark mauve.
I think it was at this point I noticed her dark, dark blue eyes.
Mysterious eyes, accentuated by a set of unusually high cheekbones.
There were something exotic about the girl. Mysterious and exotic.
Totally stupified I managed a simple "Hello", or something like that.
She didn't answer, just cocked her head further and looked at me with
those fantastic eyes.
Her exchanged looks, but luckily they were only humoured by
the situation. The moment seemed to last an eternity. It might have
been anywhere between a second and a minute, but logic tells me it was
probably closer to the former than the latter. It was her that
broke the silence, suppressing a small laugh, introducing their
daughter as Juliet. Adding, "you know, just as in the play by
Shakespeare."
The power of speech returned to me, and I managed a small reply,
cocking my head to match hers: "Hi Juliet. Your beautiful name suits
you well."
The moment had passed, the magic spell broken. Shaking her head, she
replied with a simple statement: "I prefer Lucrece." With that remark
she turned around and started walking towards their new home.
Ignoring her mothers grimace, I probably managed the only answer that
would intrigue her daughter. "At least you're faithful to
Shakespearean characters with beautiful names and tragic destinies."
Again she froze. I sensed surprise and a feeling of suspense in both
the and her parents. As she turned around slowly, some strange
energy forced my eyes towards her well-shaped body. The
fascinating combination of youthful firmness and womanly maturity
placed her in her late teens. Early twenties at most. Which of course
meant that she was way too and completely off limits for me.
Destiny, however, seemed to think differently.
I had to concentrate not to stare at her well-shaped body. Instead I
managed a direct stare into her eyes. Puzzled, she looked back at me.
Once again cocking her head, and with her already familiar small,
almost invisible, smile. "So you've heard about Lucrece. Please tell
me what you know."
I closed my eyes, thinking hard. Then the quote came to me:
'Lucrece,' quoth he, 'this night I must enjoy thee :
and if thou deny, then force must work my way,
For in thy bed I purpose to destroy thee :
That done, some worthless slave of thine I'll slay,
And in thy dead arms do I mean to place him,
swearing I slew him as I saw you embrace him
Ignoring the gasp of both her parents, I opened my eyes and looked
straight into a set of adoring dark blue eyes. The was shivering.
She swallowed hard before saying anything. Closing her eyes, she said:
"So it is true. I really would meet you when I came here. I just
didn't expect you so soon." She seemed unable to stop shivering and
something in her stance made me a bit uncomfortable. I realised that
she was dead serious.
Finally, she opened her eyes, stared deeply into mine and shocked us
all: "Look into your heart and you will know we are destined for each
other. Nothing you or I or anybody else does can change that." With
that last statement, she took a brief look at her shocked parents, but
chose to ignore them. Swallowing hard, trembling visibly, she
continued: "You must make a choice now. Will you be my Collatine or
will you be my Tarquin. Please make the right choice. Please, answer
yes. My sweet, please marry me."
"Juliet, stop this nonsense immediately, it's not funny anymore!" her
mother said sternly, giving her an unapproving look.
Lucrece ignored her. "Well? Will you?"
I'm still not sure what made me continue a game that apparantly was no
game. A shiver went down my spine as I her words sunk in. My head felt
heavy. Groggy. But in my grogginess, I knew that we were part of some
larger scheme. My choice was important, but I didn't know why. My
choice would be an important part of the puzzle. A puzzle I had
somehow always known that I was a part of.
I took a deep breath, and shook my head as it cleared. No, I was not
about to continue this game. It had gone too far, the would have
to be corrected. As I was about to give her my answer, to say no, I'm
sorry but this game must stop now, I heard myself saying yes. Of
course I would marry her.
I was so surprised I nearly didn't catch her next comment. "I'm not
kidding, you know. It's for real. You know?" she looked at me with
misty eyes.
Dead serious I answered her, my own sight blurry, my eyes mirroring
hers. "I know. I'm not kidding either. I'll marry you. For real."
"Good." she said, turned around without another word, and ran inside.
Looking at the closed door, my heart ached for her already.
Long moments passed. The air higly charged with strange emotions.
George broke the silence: "I didn't quite expect this, I have to admit
that much." Laughingly he added, "I have to apologise for my daughters
behaviour, she can be quite a handful sometimes. I'm not sure that you
handled this the way I would prefer, but I expect that you two will
sort this out eventually. I think it best that we go separate ways
now, and you will get an opportunity to sort this out later. Ok?"
My head was clearing, but again I surprised myself with my answer: "I
really doubt I could have handled it differently, but of course, I
apologise if you think I was out of hand. We'll sort it out, don't
doubt that, though it might not turn out the way you think. Your
daughter was as serious with her question as I was with my answer.
Already I ache for her return. Already I await our next meeting with
great anticipation."
Without waiting for a reply, I turned around and walked back to my own
house. The surprised gasps of the two gave me a strange
satisfaction. I really didn't know why at the time, because logic told
me I would never fall for Lucrece. I knew, however, that I had already
fallen for her, no matter how illogical that was. I knew that somehow
we were meant for each other.
Well inside the house I sat down, shivering. A big lump in my throat.
My heart beating like crazy. What the Hell was happening to me? Was I
going crazy? Was this the start of madness?
To calm down, I needed some music. Without thinking I picked up my
latest acquisition, a record by the strange Canadian band "Godspeed!
You black emperor". For some reason, I thought the more than 20-minute
long studio version of "Hung Over" was appropriate for this strange
day. After that man's initial speach about the beach at Coney
Island, I was engulfed in the slow and achingly beautiful melody.
Heartbeat slowed down to normal. Eyes closed, the world outside my
musical sphere ceased to exist. There was nothing to worry about. I
would sort this out. Of course I wasn't mad, I'd just been temporarily
smitten by a beautiful girl. Hey, this sort of thing happens all the
time, right? Sure it does.
Slowly, the music increased in intensity. Building up. Speeding up.
Adding new instruments. I remembered the look in her eyes. Her magical
look. Her strangely deep blue eyes. I'd never seen that colour before,
not that particular shade. As Godspeed increased the intensity another
step, I realised that I was trying to fool myself. I had been more
than merely smitten. I had been another person. Or perhaps more
precisely, some unconscious part of me had temporarily taken control.
Cause I had been totally unable to stop myself. Nevertheless, it had
been me.
The mid-part crescendo was over, the music calmed down. I realised
that my heartbeat had increased with the music, simply because it
slowed down now. Trying to put the experience out of my mind, I
concentrated about the music. Knowing it would increase in intensity
once more, I tried to breath slowly. Calmly. It would be all right.
Somehow, I knew it would be all right.
With the massive ending crescendo of sound pouring into me, I relaxed
completely. Once again in total balance. It would be all right.
---ooOoo---
Friday. Already five days without seeing more than small glimpses of
my new neighbours. Not even a glimpse of Lucrece though. I had thought
a million times about just walking over and pay them a visit. Every
time, I'd been stopped by an intuition telling me it would lead to
disaster. It was imperative to meet Lucrece alone, without her
parents. I knew the meeting was near. I could feel it.
With a relaxing weekend ahead of me, I turned off the lights all over
the house, lighting candles in the hall and living room. Candles have
a soothing effect on me. Something about the live flickering flame
just makes me relax. And this weekend I had turned down all
invitations, which actually was kinda rare. A couple of friends did
ask what was happening, or rather: who I was meeting. When I answered
"my future wife", they actually laughed and bought my about
being too tired and simply needed a relaxing weekend by myself.
Sometimes the lie is easier to believe than the truth.
I still don't know why I had put on an Sisters of Mercy record,
but somehow dark synth music from the eighties seemed appropriate. It
was turned real low, though. This night the music would not be at the
centre of events. That would come later.
Only seconds before the soft knock on the door I lit the candle below
the masterpiece hanging in my living room, knowing it would make an
impression. She would know it by sight. Just as she would immediately
know it was the original. Less would disappoint me.
I didn't bother answering the door. Instead I sat down in my favourite
chair, awaiting her arrival. The front door softly opened and closed,
straining my ears I could hear her arrival just above the music, and
looked at the door leading into the hallway with great anticipation.
She was an angel. A fallen angel. Dressed in all black, her face
painted white, with blood-red lips. Framed by her raven-black hair.
Her smile soft, though. Soft and a nervous. She stopped in the doorway
and just stood there, staring at me. Her hands folded, covered by long
black gloves. She was so beautiful, my heart almost stopped beating.
Somehow I had known exactly what to wear, though I had never before
done so. Unable to speak, I stood up, knowing she had already noticed
me wearing a long black skirt. It had a long split, all the way up to
my hip. Underneath I wore black jeans. The black sweater really was
too much in this warm weather, but I had felt this strange urge to
dress up completely for my Lucrece. I had even coloured my hair pitch
black. No make-up though. I never could bring myself to paint myself.
I was already stretching beyond any previous limits with the hair and
skirt.
"I think I'm gonna faint", she whispered. I answered by shaking my
head. She wasn't gonna faint. She was about to have the most wonderful
night of her life. Or rather -we- were about to spend the most
wonderful night of -our- lives.
"You are so incredibly beautiful", she continued, still whispering.
This time I answered her, hoping my voice would hold. "So are you, my
sweet Lucrece." I swear, my voice had never been this melodious
before. It had never before carried such a distinct tone, located
somewhere between a deep bass and my normal baritone voice.
As we softly embraced she stiffened, emitting a soft gasp. "Dali", she
whispered. "I don't believe it." She hadn't even hesitated. Satisfied,
I softly kissed her neck. "Lucrece", I said with my new melodious
voice, "I believe we are perfect for each other."
"So do I", she whispered back. "So do I."
And then we kissed. Her body pressed against mine as our mouths
touched. Softly at first, feeling each other. We were both shivering
as the kiss deepened. Her tounge snaking its way inside my mouth. I
responded to her lead, kissing her back, putting as much as possible
into the kiss. Her warm body pressing towards mine made me hard.
Feeling my hardness only made her press harder towards me. Kissing me
even deeper. Her hands stroking my back.
My hands started living their own lives. The right kept a firm grip
around her waist, keeping her close. The left found its way towards
her breasts, softly stroking what I believed to be perfect breasts.
The of my Lucrece. Her nipples hardened to my touch. Her
breathing quickened even further.
Knowing she was at least as horny as I was, I lead her towards the
bedroom. She stopped in the doorway. "I can't." she whispered, almost
crying. "It's too soon. We can't have intercourse before our wedding,
and deep down you know it." And then she added, almost inaudibly, "I'm
still a virgin."
For a brief moment I considered actually performing the act of Sextus
Tarquinius from Shakespeares poem, raping Lucrece, thinking that this
was a part of it all. But in some strange way, her words made sense.
This was not simply a replay of that poem. It was something far
more complex than that. The intercourse would complete the wedding.
That act would serve to validate it all.
Suddenly I had a disturbing vision; midnight, full moon, a cold and
empty stone church, candle-lights flickering in the draft in that
church, Lucrece and me, completing our marriage on the altar in front
of the priest.
Shivering, I considered my options. Perhaps it would be better after
all, to fulfil her destiny as Shakespeare intended. I honestly didn't
know. I would have to go by intuition alone on this.
With no warning, I slapped her across the mouth with the back of my
hand. Shocked, she took several steps back and bumped into the bed.
With big eyes, she took a long look at the bed. I don't know what made
her resign to her fate, the beautiful deep-red velvet covering, or
perhaps more probably, the solid iron posts and railing. Straightening
her back, she gave me a defiant look. A small trickle of blood running
from the side of her mouth. "We will not... -can- not have intercourse
before our wedding."
"Whatever makes you think that decision is up to you, and you alone,
my sweet Lucrece." My voice suddenly carrying a hard, mean tone that
had previously gone unnoticed. It was apparent, however, that she did
notice it now.
Her back was straight, but the rest of her shivering body gave her
away. The was afraid. Could this be wrong, after all? Had she
started something she would have to regret the rest of her life? She
started talking, but her voice broke. With tears suddenly running down
her face, she looked very much afraid indeed. A small frightened kid.
I was, however, not going to stop now. Certain that this would enhance
her experience beyond whatever she had anticipated, I picked up the
rope that was already placed on the night table.
She didn't resist as I tied her to the bed. Simply laid down, resigned
to her fate. Giving herself to my, a total stranger's, care. She was
still fully dressed. I was rough, perhaps too rough. Tied her up in an
X, with hands and legs tied to each bed-post. I could see the strain
on her, as the rope was digging into her flesh. Her chest rising in
tune with her heavy, almost frantic breath. Looking at me with those
large, beautiful eyes. Tears slowly running down her face. Whispering
softly to me, words I had trouble distinguishing, but knew in my
heart. "Please don't do this. This is not the way it's meant to be."
Then looking at my hard, expressionless face, she closed her eyes and
let out a big breath. In total resignation, she said: "Please be
gentle."
She was still breathing heavily, but seemingly more in control of
herself. Not knowing for sure what was going to happen, but crazy with
anticipation. The was helpless as I sat down next to her. A light
touch with my fingers. Slowly, I traced the outline of her body,
applying only enough pressure to ensure she actually did feel it
through the fabric of her dress.
Her eyes closed, but still whispering. That final resignation, over
and over again. "Please be gentle. Be gentle. Oh, please be gentle."
For some reason it seemed right, I don't know why, but I leaned over,
my face close to hers, and blew softly all over her face. Her tears
were drying. She calmed down. A slow, deep and heavy breath now. I
knew she was as excited as I am. I knew she both wanted and didn't
want me to take her right now. Force must work my way.
Her smell was like nothing I've ever experienced. A dark mysterious
musk, not at all like the sweet smell I expected. In all, not much
about this was as expected. I was excited as I've never been.
Wanting her. Every limb of me yearning for her. To be close, to touch
her skin. To penetrate and enter her.
Slowly I started unbuttoning the top of her dress. I didn't want to
ruin the dress, but luckily the buttons went far enough, enabling me
to expose her young, budding breasts. Shivering, I cupped her breasts,
one fitting perfectly in each hand. Her flesh soft and warm. How could
I possibly control myself? How could I possibly not take this girl.
Lying there in my bed, helplessly tied down.
As I softly rubbed her nipples, she started breathing in short gasps.
Leaning over her breasts, the tip of my tounge touched her left
as I kept stroking her right. The nipple suddenly in my mouth, my
tounge swirling all over it. Gasping for breath, her body writhing.
Pushing her pelvis up towards me. Straining against the ropes. Her
whispering pleas consisting of one word only; "Please.... please...
please.... oh please."
My hand snaked in under her dress. Cupping her outside the
panties. Gently locating her clit with my thumb, I started rubbing
sofly, enjoying the sound of her gasps. Her short breath. Rubbing
harder, I leaned over and felt her breath into my mouth. Her breath
had the same musky taste and smell as I'd noticed before. With her
eyes still closed, she nevertheless knew I was near. Feeling my breath
in her mouth proved too much, and she closed the gap. Kissing me
wildly, she started moaning into my mouth.
It was so sexy, the way she came. Shivering, pushing her body against
mine and her pelvis up against my hand as far as the ropes allowed,
moaning deeply into my mouth as we kissed.
As her orgasm resided, I knew I could go on and it would bring her to
new heights. It was, however, impossible to ignore my own body. My own
needs. Slowly I rose from the bed and started undressing. Lucrece
still unable to move. Still breathing heavily. Opening her eyes, she
froze as she saw me and started following my every move in silence.
When I was naked before her, with my entire body yearning for her, I
knew it would not happen today. She would get her will. She would
remain a virgin until we were married, which now was our inescapable
future.
As I released her from her bonds, I silently groaned at the sight of
her bruised wrists. I did not say anything, however, because it was as
it was supposed to be. No more, no less. With anticipation of what was
to come, I enjoyed the display of Lucrece undressing and joining me in
bed. Then, the moment I had been waiting for. Our two naked bodies
close. And in the end, what made this night so special, was the fact
that we did not have intercourse after all.
---ooOoo---
To be continued....
--
Copyright 2003 by brutus. Copies may be made and posted
elsewhere, but all commercial rights are reserved.
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