Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Eating Isabella

Written by Bakai (Feb 2000)

On the first day of spring in a time long ago Love charged out of the morning mist on a steady white steed and rode hard into a meadow of primrose. He slowed only to bend and wrap an arm around a young woman's waist, swinging her up to sit behind him on the sweaty flanks of his impatient horse. Then he turned and raced back into the mist, the young woman clinging hard to him, her long hair undulating in the scented air. Isabella had watched it happen, leaning impassively on her gardening shovel. She had watched as her eldest daughter, just twenty-four, was borne out of her life and into another. The tears in her eyes were from joy.

On the first day of spring in the following year Love galloped once again out of the fog, reining his stallion in to pluck a girl out of the briars, setting her behind him where she pressed her thighs tightly against his and buried her face in his shoulder as he turned the snorting horse back toward whence he'd come. "No!" cried Isabella, but their laughter was all she heard as she watched her next born, barely nineteen, hugging fierce to his arms as the pair of them rode fast back into the mist. Isabella threw her shovel into the dirt and covered her eyes with her hands to stay the tears of her sorrow.

On the first day of spring in the year that came next Love charged once again from the mist and at the violent sound of the hooves a young girl, Isabella's last born, ran to her mother and stood close behind her, trembling with excitement. The horseman rode almost onto them before tugging the reins back and the horse stopped, rising up on his hind legs to paw at the air, tossing clods of meadow about them. When the stallion settled once again to the earth Isabella swung the shovel with all her strength and smacked the arrogant steed alongside his big head. Befuddled, the horse made a fuss and deposited Love at Isabella's feet, then cantered off to gather his thoughts.

"What the hell are you doing, woman?" Love inquires, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

Isabella raises her shovel and threatens to bean him. "Don't move, demon! Don't you dare move!"

Love laughs. He combs a hand through his thick black hair and then brushes the dirt off his arms. He sits and studies the young girl who is sizing him up, standing close behind her mother. He winks and the girl returns a broad smile. "You cannot stop what is fated," he says, looking back at Isabella.

"She is too young for you, demon. You shan't have her. Not for a long while," she tells him.

"You were her age when I first took you, woman."

Isabella thrusts her fanny back and bumps the girl away from her. "Go to the house!" she commands, bolt the door and board the windows. Hide yourself, hide yourself good!"

The girl hesitates a moment then turns and runs down the hillock to the house. Even at this distance she can be heard locking and securing things. She is a good girl.

"You are a fool," he says. "She is mine. You are just wasting time."

"Don't test me, demon. I will kill you. I swear it!"

"You cannot deny me," Love replies, "I am forever. You once promised me that."

"Our forever lasted long enough, demon. Get away from here."

"Ah, woman, it's a beautiful day. Put down that weapon and sit here beside me."

"You do think me a fool. You think I've forgotten your tricks."

Love reaches out his hand and lays it on Isabella's sandaled foot. She swings the shovel down at his head but he shifts quickly aside and the blade digs deeply into the grassy ground, mere inches from his hip. He grabs the handle of it and pulls her off balance, tumbling her awkwardly onto the weeds beside him.

"You still have some spirit, woman," he says with a laugh.

Isabella curses him then sits quietly looking away, first at the horizon and then at the house. "Please let her be," she says softly.

"She is forgotten," he says, reaching out and gently running the back of his hand down her bare arm. She doesn't pull away but turns and looks intently into his emerald eyes, finding what she has always remembered.

"You are the Jack of Liars," she tells him.

"I am a simple creature of whim," he replies.

"You wish me to believe that I am suddenly your desire?"

"It would be in your best interests to make it so."

"I am no longer young and desirable. You are being cruel."

"I am being myself, woman. Lay back, give up your foolish fight."

And so she does. She lays back onto the weedy grass and stares into a pastel blue sky that is lightly laced with wisps of cirrus. "Then have your way, demon. You have given me no choice."

Love smiles. He reaches down to his waist and removes his dagger from its scabbard. He places it in her hand and gently folds her fingers around the handle. "There is always a choice, woman," he says and, grasping her wrist, he guides the point of the dagger to his chest near his heart and leans himself slowly into it. A stain of blood spreads out from where the blade has punctured his shirt. He releases her wrist. "Slay me or kiss me," he says. "Make your choice."

"Damn you to hell," she says, withdrawing the knife from his chest and letting her arm fall limp to the ground. Love leans down and touches his lips against hers and her mouth opens for his tongue. His kiss is long, his probing deep, and in a while he stops and gently licks the tears from her cheeks. "Time has made you even more delicious," he tells her and then he stands to remove his britches as she lies quietly and watches.

Naked, he kneels at her feet, facing her, and removes her sandals. He massages each foot for a while and finally she closes her eyes and tugs at her long skirt, pulling it up to expose her knees. He raises her foot and kisses a small toe then puts his lips around it. She makes a simple sound as he sucks on it, pulling the flesh off the bone. He spits out the nail before swallowing and then nibbles the next.

"Oh, Love," she moans when he spits the tenth nail, "I've missed this so." He consumes the flesh of her feet, lovingly picking the little bones clean. Then he starts on her ankles and calves, chewing tenderly, pausing only to kiss and to lick. When he gets to her knees she fumbles to open the sash that binds her skirt but he takes the hem of it into his hands and rips it neatly to the waist, freeing it from her body.

"Oh, God, oh sweet God," she sighs as he bites into the thick meat of her thighs, chewing each mouthful carefully one hundred times, working slowly up between her legs, caressing now her hips and belly. "Oh yes yes yes!" she wails as he cups his hands beneath her buttocks and lifts her up to his face. She swings her legs around his head and locks her ankles behind him, holding him to her. He digs his long tongue deep into the rift of her ass and then runs it, flickering, up and down through her succulence while she makes shrill, primitive sounds. She reaches down and grabs his ears, guiding his mouth to her clitoris and he nibbles it clean from its root, then swallows it.

"Don't stop!" she pleads breathlessly, guiding his mouth to her hole, urging him on with the grip of her legs until he spreads it wide with his tongue and sucks out, in large gulps, all of her viscera, leaving only her heart beating wildly in her chest. He reaches up his arms and, breaking the hold of her legs, rolls her over and feasts on the meat of her ass. She works awkwardly to undo the buttons of her blouse now underneath her but he simple grabs it by the neck and roughly pulls it down off her arms, ripping off the buttons, and tosses it to the side, and then he gnaws all the flesh off her back, exposing her ribs to the light.

He turns her over to face him once more, looming above her on his hands and knees, and she locks her legs around his haunch while pulling back her arms and pushing up on her hands, lifting herself off the ground to offer him her breasts. He lowers his mouth to a nipple and kisses it before sucking into his mouth and tenderly chewing it off. Then, as his teeth slowly masticate the pulp of her breasts, she throws back her head and wails a boast of her ecstasy at the fading day's sky.

He kisses her mouth again, panting hard and spewing spittle down her cheeks, and then he bites off the tip of her nose as he thrusts forward trying to enter her. "Oh, yes yes, sweet demon," she moans and she unlocks the grip of her legs, lowering one foot, then the other onto the ground, bending her knees and raising her hips up to receive him but he misses the mark and his rigid shaft slips up out of her, the tip of it stabbing upright through her tangled hairs to flop against his stomach and he presses it against her, desperately rubbing it along the whole of her lubricous cleave, oblivious to all but the thrall of his heat.

Somehow she manages a frantic laugh and she lowers her shoulders to the ground to free her arms. She reaches between their bodies, taking his cock into her hands. "Patience, lover," she cries, and in spite of the strength of his upward thrusts she stuffs the swollen tip of it back into the splay of her juicy wattled folds and with a low gurgled grunt of gratification, he rams it into her hole. Legs trembling with fatigue, she continues to hold her hips up to him, swaying in rhythm with each long stroke he drives home, strokes that culminate with the slap of his heavy balls against her ass, and while his dripping sweat beads crazily on her oscillating breasts she greets the spasms of her own gratification with a sense of abandon, pressing herself hard against him, no longer aware that the soulful cries she hears are her own.

"Come, lover, come!" she pleads and once again slides her hands down between their bodies. She grasps the shank of his cock and pulls it tightly in against her. "Come, come, come," she cries, in quick cadence with her breathing and she hears him drone a low slow moan as he straightens his arms and lifts his head over her, straining to push himself even deeper into her cunt. She feels the pulse of his first burst course past the grasp of her fingers and senses its warm explosive release into the depths of her vestibule. Quickly she loosens her grip of his cock and pulls her hands away, thrusting her hips hard against him as he pumps a second spurt into her followed by, in ever decreasing urgency, a third and a fourth, but by then she has already found the dagger that had lain beside them and she has driven it into his heart.

She looks up to watch his eyes and he smiles at her. "You do have some spirit, woman," he says, and then she feels his wet hard penis slip out of her, leaving a bead of his final ejaculate along her thigh, thick and cooling, as he collapses beside her. Walking back to the house she pauses and looks back. The evening mist is already creeping across the meadow and engulfing him. Somewhere she can hear the mournful neigh of a horse.

On the first day of the new spring Isabella, ignoring her daughter's fitful sobbing and supplications, leaves her house and locks the door behind her. She walks slowly up the nearby knoll and removes her nightgown. She sits naked on the greening weeds and faces the morning mist. She waits.

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