Dark Images.
Yes, I have been away for a while, but that was only to come back with something darker and hotter!
Please note: There is a reason this fic is in the "M"/"Mature" section. Lots of graphic sexual scenes…basically that's all this is…just one big perverted smut-fest with a small side of spirituality.
For right now this is a one shot, however I am trying to make it into 7 chapters…1 chapter for each of the 7 Deadly Sins. This one is for Lust. It is meant to be kind of trippy and choppy, because that's how I wrote it. Other than that this is primarily some dark, book based Fresme smut.
Yes, I know it's long…deal with it.
I don't own any of the characters, Victor Hugo does.
As always please review. Constructive criticism is welcome and flames not so much.
It was early morning; well after midnight, but before the sun had even given thought to kissing the sky and illuminating the city below. The time had never occurred to him, he was busily bent over a book and as he read his lips moved, releasing faint whispers.
"Lucifer...Superbia, Mammon…Avaritia, A…As…Asmo…Mother of God! I spoke it so clearly once, but now it stains my lips like her curse! God! God if you can hear me, I denounce you and pray only to Asmodeus."
He violently flung the text he had been reading to the ground, ripping each page, holding them over flames, counting the seconds it took for the flames to tickle his already burning fingertips.
"Damnation!"
A flame had singed his finger too harshly and with that he collapsed to the floor, staring intoxicatingly into the flame.
"So warm, and how it twists…Asmo…Esmeralda."
And with that thought, his mind ventured to more lurid territory.
Her heaving form lying on a pedestal, ready for the taking. Her hair, shimmering in the light of Hell's own flames and fanned out above her head and draping over the edge of the stone slab, her. That sweaty bronze skin, glistening with delight, body fully nude and for his eyes alone to see! Those sweet black eyes, closed in longing, lashes sweeping against her reddened cheeks. Her nostrils flared hungry for the stench of brimstone, smoke and sulfur and her mouth opening and closing with small gasps and swoons. And then his eyes travelled lower. Her left hand reaching up to her neck, those five tender digits moving and searching for what seemed to be needed! Those same fingers now travelled down, begging his eyes to follow. And here his eyes latched onto her swollen bosom; two round, firm and pert breasts which bobbed up and down with every labored breath she took.
"God let me wake before, like her I am damned here for all eternity!"
He began to frantically search for some exit, some sign that God was listening. But this was no place for God, this was his blasphemy and the work of something more twisted than God.
With no sign of help and no doorway out, he looked back at the stone slab to notice that she was still there, though her right hand seemed to have taken up the job that the left hand had abandoned.
The fingers on her right hand seemed to glide over the full length of her right leg, then her stomach, up to her still heavy breasts and then…
"OH GOD!"
He shrieked, watching her spread her legs and dip her right index and middle fingers into the apex of her thighs. But those words seemed to break the silence and grab her attention. She regarded him, languidly opening her eyes and casually turning her head toward him. And then she opened her beautiful red mouth and in a barely audible whisper spoke.
"Save me Claude. I am yours."
In that moment she and those words seemed out of place. At last, gathering his bearings he could see a pit of lava below them which gave the eerie red glow to everything in its path. Behind him were steep hills of unstable rocks and dirt. But more importantly everything felt feverishly hot. The ground seared his feet, the air stung his face, the atmosphere dried his lips. And what was before him? This his reward from the Devil for at last giving into his carnal desires. Or could he be dead and perhaps God was granting him his greatest desire as his reward? The largest question was whether or not he cared.
He watched as she bit her bottom lip and with a pleading glance beckoned him to join her on the stone slab.
He stalked, cautiously over to her and the moment he came near enough, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down on top of her.
To prevent a collision, he braced himself by placing his hands on either side of her and the instant their bodies made contact he could feel her wriggling, pressing her soft wet opening to his pelvic region!
"This must be Heaven."
He thought, trying to gain a logical grasp on what was happening.
"Yes…there is no Sun God!"
Her hands ripped the fabric of his cassock, jarring him from his ponderings. Her nails rabidly tore away at each seam, discarding the fabric once held in such high regard as though it was a common dish rag.
"No…"
His mind again began to race and he grabbed her hands, forcing her to stop.
"And what use does a holy frock have for me now?"
She quipped, pressing her chest to his, leaning back to give him a better view of his "reward."
He shook with fury at how she could mock him. Her rough laughter, her jovial smile and then her hand running along a patch of his bare skin. The pads of her fingers were exquisitely soft!
"It is a piece of cloth like any other. It tears, it burns…it is made to hide shame and to be removed."
But these were not the words of love and sweetness he had dreamt about.
Again he attempted to take control by grabbing her hands and holding them tightly enough, that she could not free them from his grasp.
"Listen to me you little witch! Listen and answer me this: Do you love me?"
"Claude. Is it only Love that you want?"
She pressed against him, whispering into his ear. The warmth of her body combined with the sultry tone of her voice caused him to release her.
His body was being more honest than his mind was; he could feel sweat form on his brow and temples, his heart began to race and he could feel himself harden at the mere sight of her. And with that he could feel her slipping his cassock off.
This was a fantasy and like all of his other fantasies this one was sure to end the moment he pressed his lips to hers; he would awaken in a pool of tears and sweat, there would be a knocking at the door and he would return to the waking world, wanting nothing more than to return to this fantasy.
Her arms slunk around his neck, pulling him in…
He stood before a grand lake on a foggy morning. The pebbles beneath his feet began to dig into his skin and he could feel the blood slowly pour out. He hesitantly stepped into the onyx water to cleanse his feet. But the moment he did, he could not turn back. The water seemed to know him and he it, the small waves laid claim to him by weighing his feet down. He accepted this with a calm, stone like and almost serene face.
He tilted his head to one side, deepening the ravenous kiss. Her tongue ran itself along his, applying pressure and then allowing him to do the same. He felt her tongue circle around his, delving deeper and daring him to do the same.
He should be awake by now…
His arms which had once been flung around her back as to insure that he would receive this kiss now slid and rubbed their way to the sides of her supple breasts.
"Mmmmm!"
Her muffled cry of approval, as his hands stroked their way to the front. He first began to shyly squeeze those large, perfect orbs and in so doing took note of her nipples.
With her head leaning slightly back, she opened herself up to his lips. Those warm and dry, pink petals latched onto her velvet neck, nipping and sucking and soon her flesh was marred with a trickle of blood. And did Claude mind tasting that sweet and tangy life force? The rough tip of his tongue grazed her brown neck, causing her to shiver in delight!
He could feel the icy water rise, waist deep as hands beneath the waves grabbed for his feet. The wind had just picked up and he could feel it, slapping him in the face. In the distance he could hear faint sounds of angry laughter, yet he continued his trek through the murky liquid.
Her cinnamon colored nipples, completely erect; the tell tale sign that a woman was more than ready for sex. His thumbs rubbing and pressing them down and his lips still sloppily kissing her neck. She was ready, but was he?
Oh God he should be awake by now…
But did he want to be awake?
Just as his hands caressed her busty chest, hers slid over his more slender and pale chest. Those wonderfully soft hands crept lower! And now her tiny fingers were on the laces of his hose.
His head was imploding and surely he should wake up any minute!
He heard a loud, overly surprised gasp from her.
"You did not tell me you loved me this badly!"
Her hand had worked its way into his hose and now held his burning cock.
"So hard!"
Claude's eyes had widened at the sudden touch, but mere seconds later he drowsily gave into her wanton ministrations.
Slowly at first, tugging lightly and sweetly licking the shell of his ear. He had never been touched there and had never given any thought as to how he wanted to be touched, but her teasing strokes made him groan for more! Eyes closed, head tilted back and teeth clenched he released ragged breaths, begging her not to stop.
The waves were becoming larger, as he continued walking. Now chest deep into the frigid lake he could feel his ankles numbing and pain shoot up his legs. His entire body began to tremble in the most violent way. The wind continued its rush in every direction imaginable, asking the waves for assistance. Claude felt solid sheets of ice fling into his face, causing his neck to turn and jerk painfully. And still he did not stop.
Her hand sped up, slipping and stroking up and down his hardened manhood. He quickly glanced down to see her fingers wrapped around him and knew that he must have hardened even more, just by the comparison of her small hand around his stiff member. And she must have been satisfied with her work! She lightly ran an index finger around the pink tip, narrowed her eyes and in a husky tone spoke the words he had been longing to hear.
"I'm ready to love you now, Claude."
If he did not wake up at the peak of this fantasy he must surely be dead.
She tugged at his hose, ripping them beyond repair and smiled wickedly as he lay her back down on the stone slab.
For a moment Claude decided to take in the sights of her, which until now he had yet to see; her womanly mound. He ran his right hand over her soft dusting of curls. He noted how damp they felt and he could smell the aroma of her musky arousal.
This is when he was sure to wake up…
His hand languidly drifted to her inner thigh and he could see how pink and feel how warm she was. And of course there was the question of fitting into her. She seemed so little that he might cause her great pain at first. But just the thought of her being so tight and the feeling of her vaginal walls around him aroused him further!
She must have been able to hear his thoughts.
"Hurt me Claude."
A pleading whimper broke the silence.
For the first time he aligned his body with hers and began to rub the tip of his cock into her sweet pussy.
With the water now nearing his chin and the wind chilling him to the bones, Claude could feel heavier weights being attached to his sinking feet. The wind kept daring him to float away and the waves cooperated by shoving him this way and that. He could no longer feel the steady floor of the lake beneath his feet. Instead his toes seemed to lift away from the water.
"Claude…So strong!"
Her hands clutched his thinning hair and tore out handfuls of it, as he pressed in, at last penetrating her.
"CLAUDE!"
He heard her shriek at the top of her lungs, as he had finally fit himself into her. God she had been tight, but luckily she was wet enough for him to slide into her with minimal discomfort.
"Oh yes Esmeralda!"
He caught a glimpse of her dark tear filled eyes; that tiny bit of pain increased his pleasure tenfold!
At first Claude began to massage her tight folds in an attempt to loosen her love canal; a gentle in and out motion, only served to quicken and not give him the satisfaction of filling her completely. He pulled out, trying to think of a way for her to accommodate him.
"Please…don't stop!"
She begged. And with those three words he smirked, knowing that he'd have to enter her again. The use of his dick to part her pink, moistened lips a second time gave him an even greater thrill than the first. Yes, there would be that bit of resistance but he was certain that with a few strong strokes her pain would be worth the pleasure.
The waves were bashing against his eyes. He was no longer breathing in the humid morning air, instead he could feel his nostrils fill with water. He willed himself to sink lower. He needed something to take hold of!
His manhood fully sheathed within his screaming prize, he began to gyrate his hips in circular motions to the sound of her joyful cries.
"Yes Claude Love me!"
She was peaking.
Long ago he had forgotten the waking world and waking with it. To be this close to making her his completely and have that taken from him would be the cruelest joke God could ever play. He had tried desperately to call out for God during this lascivious act, but every time he had done so the name came out all wrong.
"ESMERALDA!"
The name was ripped from his vocal chords as he came. The last semblance of his virtue, of those defiled priestly vows…
The water was no longer his concern. The wind had succeeded in lifting him and he now was frantically seeking out something to take hold of. There were no rocks, no roots, no sticks or blades of grass. There was no stopping and no control, as he screamed out what had replaced God.
"Asmodeus!"
Hope you all enjoyed that! Now review!
