Friday, 5 April 2013

Dark Before Dawn

The anger causes pain inside,
Too deep to understand. 
And the pain, in turn, will cause,
More malice to my hand.

~ Revenge by Kim Hooten

Black Angel (by anarkyman

A Dish Served Cold

David and Jenny Clayton lived in a nice house in a quiet neighbourhood.

Mark Jeffries lived 30 minutes away in a small, ground floor apartment which he shared with his partner.

Mark was gay.

Mark and Jenny worked together in a little office in the city.

David had a problem with the fact that his pretty Cambridge educated wife was working in the civil service.

But this problem was nothing compared to the problem David had with Mark being gay - or a "fag" or "queer" as David preferred to call him.

As far as David Clayton was concerned, Mark Jeffries was nothing more than a parasite.

For the five years David had known Mark,  he had done nothing but insult him behind his back.

And Jenny was no better.

But at least she hid her malice beneath a veneer of goodwill.

Jenny pretended to be Mark's friend because she thoroughly enjoyed the duplicity.

David Clayton cruelly mocked and mimicked Mark Jeffries.

He took a vicarious pleasure in ridiculing him naively thinking that he wouldn't suspect a thing.

Jenny by turns both reprimanded David for his homophobic jokes and on occasion actively participated in the derision.

She had some standards.

The truth was that Jenny thought Mark was a spineless, effeminate who deserved nothing more than to be pitied.

He was weak and pathetic and easy to manipulate

Or so she thought.

So in public she pretended to be his best friend.

It was all a big joke.

And the joke was on Mark Jeffries.

And behind his back she laughed at him with their other co-workers.

She was convinced he was too soft in the head to realise how much she avidly poked fun at him..

And this was mistake number one.

Jenny was the perfect shoulder to cry on when Jeffries finally split up with his boyfriend.

She struggled not to laugh as he tearfully informed her during their lunch break.

She later gave a blow by blow account of the dramatic break-up to anyone who would listen.

Jenny Clayton could barely conceal her glee.

Then everything darkened.

Mark Jeffries had decided to go up for promotion.

And finally Jenny was going to show her claws.

She began her onslaught by laying on the charm with Mark.

Jenny lulled him into a false sense of security.

Then she vehemently decimated him to their boss.

Felix Schueller sat back in his big leather chair and listened as she passionately railed against Jeffries.

He was mentally undressing Jenny Clayton all the while she raved.

Felix Schueller had a pug like face and was short and pot bellied.

He also always stank of copious amounts of aftershave which left a trail where ever he went.

Now Jenny decided to up her game by introducing sexual blackmail into the mix.

She knew full well that her boss secretly wanted her and she had been playing on it from the moment she got her job.

A little grope here and there was not beneath her.

A quick fumble in one of the office's during the Christmas party was allowed.

She had become accustomed to his slobbering advances.

But now she stood in his office and promised him the ultimate favour if  he passed Mark's promotion up and considered her instead.

Jenny then locked the office door.

And just for good measure she unbuttoned her blouse and unclasped her bra and showed him her big breasts.

"He's annoying now" Jenny cooed as she moved closer to her boss until she was standing over him.

Then she slipped  her hand between his legs so she could feel his hardened member.

 "Just imagine what he'll be like when he gets promoted ... he'll have his beady eyes on your job next"

Jenny made a carnal promise.

And she got her wish.

Mark was passed up and she got the promotion.

But the price she had to pay was to have sex with her drooling boss in his car.

Jenny had to close her eyes as Felix Schueller's pudgy hands pawed at her and his raspy breath filled her ears.

She took every one of his violent thrusts.

Scheuller's big ugly face was breathing all over her and his cheap aftershave was stinking up the car.

And Jenny Clayton dramatically feigned orgasm even as she cursed Mark Jeffries in her head.

It was all his fault.

You'll pay for this ... you fucking queer bastard ... 

Now Jenny Clayton decided that revenge was the perfect leveller.

And David Clayton was only too willing to participate..

"Hitler had the right idea about queens!" David exclaimed maliciously one evening.

They both dissolved into fits of laughter.

Against her better judgement,  Jenny Clayton decided to ask Mark Jeffries over for dinner.

David hated the idea of having him in the house - but he was game for a laugh.

"Isn't it funny how you've never come round here for dinner?" Jenny said to Mark on the phone as she clamped her hand firmly over David's mouth.

The conversation lasted thirty minutes and Jenny struggled to keep a straight face but Mark agreed to meet them for dunner.

But David Clayton was silently fuming.

It wasn't funny anymore.

"What are we going to fucking feed the faggot?" David snorted contemptuously.

 "Fairy cakes!" Jenny answered nastily.

Everything went quiet as the couple silently stared at each other.

"Look - I can't stand him" Jenny Clayton continued "but I'm up for a good piss take so fuck off!"

"Why don't you say a little prayer for him like your Catholic mother would!" David Clayton said with a sly smirk.

"God doesn't exist!" Jenny exclaimed in a frenzy "Religion is a crutch for weaklings and emotional cripples!"

Then they both laughed as they stared at a framed picture of Jenny's long dead mother on the mantelpiece.

The following evening, Mark Jeffries showed up at the Clayton's residence laden with costly presents.

The initial meeting went well - Jenny and David were all smiles.

But the hiatus lasted all too briefly.

Later on in the kitchen,  the vicious couple went over everything Mark had said with vindictive glee.

David even snickered at Mark's "pink,  girly shirt"

The couple were talking in hushed tones but were barely able to contain their laughter.

Unbeknown to the vicious couple - Mark Jeffries was totally aware of their malevolence. 

And a battle of wills was just beginning between himself and David.

In spite of all his fake familiarity - David Clayton could barely suppress his dislike of Mark throughout the meal.

And the pretence was wearing thin with every passing moment.

David Clayton stared Mark Jeffries out.

Then he proceeded to ask him probing questions about his life and career.

Clayton could barely conceal his animosity now.

The charade was over.

Jenny took David aside again in the kitchen.

She had been enjoying the show,  but David was pushing it too early.

"Stop it!" Jenny snarled angrily "Its not funny anymore!"

"Give me a break ... you hate that fag as much as I do!" David replied viciously "Why pretend any longer?"

"Subtlety" Jenny grinned slyly "Subtlety my dear"

"What's that gay going to do to me anyway?" David Clayton sneered "Hit me with his handbag?"

Then he minced in a circle around the kitchen.

The conniving couple burst into peals of laughter unaware that Mark Jeffries had heard everything they had said to each other.

The rest of the meal passed by uneventfully.

But Mark was very uneasy now.

The men listened to Jenny carping on about her lazy co-workers and her difficult father who walked out of the family home when she was twelve.

She jabbered on about her religious mother who tried to "force that shit on me."

Then the main meal was over and David Clayton finally went in for the kill.

With a drink in hand Clayton launched into his onslaught.

"Whats it like ... being a gay?" David enquired simply yet devastatingly.

Silence descended upon the diners for several moments.

"Its like being straight ... there is no difference" Mark Jeffries answered carefully "we are just normal people like you"

David Clayton slowly shook his head.

He could barely conceal his disgust now.

And Jenny Clayton could barely hide her delight.

She was smirking at Jeffries.

It was like watching a spider catching a fly in its web.

A front row seat at a mud fight.

Like watching a poor unfortunate in a lion's den.

"No ... I am normal" David replied meaningfully.

He slowly eyed his guest up with a look of complete contempt

"But I don't think you are" Clayton finished.

Everything went very quiet again for a few moments.

Mark looked down at his hands as he struggled to find a response.

But no words would come out of his mouth.

He was completely crushed.

David Clayton was smiling triumphantly.

And Mark Jeffries was exactly where Clayton wanted him to be.

"You pathetic little sap"

This was going to be so easy.

It was around this time that David Clayton launched into a full scale assault on "faggots" and AIDS.

There was no end to Clayton's poisonous tirade.

No stone was left unturned as he gave every reason he could think of as to why gays should not be allowed to breathe the same air as he.

"All gays should be put against a wall and shot!" Clayton finished maliciously as he took another slurp of wine from his glass.

David Clayton was King of the castle now.

Silence had descended upon the diner.

Mark Jeffries did not retaliate but sat very still.

And Jenny Clayton was mesmerised by her husband's rant and was smiling broadly.

Everything had gone far better than she could have wished for and she hoped that Mark Jeffries had been completely destroyed.

That piece of shit deserves to be decimated.

What a night!

Mark Jeffries felt broken and betrayed.

And he felt mortally wounded.

Quietly he got up from the table.

"What a sad bastard!" David Clayton cried as he and Jenny watched Mark's car disappear into the distance from the window.

"And you can burn all that crap he bought us as well!" Clayton added maliciously.

It was with a sense of triumph that David Clayton settled back into his chair.

Jenny Clayton was pondering over the night's happenings and looking forward to telling her co-workers about it after the weekend.

She was jubilant at the ruin of the most irritating idiot she knew.

"This is the most fun I have had in ages" Jenny Clayton said with a smile of satisfaction.

The couple finished a bottle of wine together and joked about Mark Jeffries all the way

And then they proceeded to have loud sex on the sofa.

David Clayton even mounted Jenny Clayton on top of the washing machine.

Cruelty always made the amoral couple feel amorous.

The following day was sunny and bright.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

Mark Jeffries decided to pay David and Jenny Clayton a little visit.

But this time he bought a friend with him.

A semi-automatic shotgun.

Jeffries parked outside the Clayton's drive way and then he strode confidently up to the front door with the gun in hand.

The street was completely empty and quiet save for the sound of bluebirds chirping in the trees.

And three large black crows sitting on the branch of a tree outside David and Jenny Clayton's house.

Three silent birds of ill omen.

Mark Jeffries violently began kicking at the front door.

With a raw surge of energy he battered the heavy door in.

David Clayton was cowering in a corner of the room when Jeffries walked in.

"What the fuck do you want?" Clayton exclaimed in horror.

Mark Jeffries smiled grimly at the frightened man.

And before Clayton could act or say another word,  Jeffries shot him three times between the eyes at point blank range.

Most of David Clayton's face was blown clean off and his brains had sprayed onto the wall behind him.

Clayton's arms flayed about as he tumbled back sending a framed photo of himself and Jenny Clayton on their wedding day flying into the air and crashing onto the floor in an explosion of glass.

Then the corpse hit the floor and dark red blood began pouring from David's mangled and deformed head.

Blood oozed unstoppably from the dead man and began seeping into the carpet like a creeping surf.

Mark Jeffries paused for a few moments to stare at the corpse.

There was no sign of Jenny Clayton.

Jeffries paused to stare at the dead body of his tormentor.

Then he fired a further three bullets into it's chest.

Finally Jeffries walked calmly back to his car and climbed in.

There was an eerie silence in the street.

As if all life had ceased to exist.

Even the birds had stopped singing.

Mark Jeffries surveyed the scene.

All was calm.

Then he proceeded to put the gun into his mouth.

The corridor of time (by hearthy
And Mark Jeffries promptly blew his own brains out.

By the time Jenny Clayton returned home -  the ambulance services had been there for a couple of hours by now.

The police had cordoned off the area around the house.

Jenny knew immediately that something very serious had happened and she was already becoming hysterical.

Because she had a lot more on her conscious than a little bullying and power abuse.

A small crowd had already gathered and she recognised many of the people.

Jenny Clayton pushed her way forward - ignoring the officious female police officer.

"You can't go in there!" The policewoman barked.

"This is my fucking home!" Clayton sneered and the policewoman backed off.

A body in a black bag was being carried out.

Jenny Clayton could smell death everywhere.

It was then that she started screaming.

Somehow she remembered being in the house and a medic trying to pacify her.

She thought she saw David's mother weeping in a corner.

But she had been dead for three years by this time.

Jenny stared transfixed at the blood stains where David's dead body had lain.

The she started mumbling something about having to prepare dinner.

But she insisted on wiping David's brains off the wall.

Apparently she became hysterical when the ambulance services tried to stop her and eventually they had had to restrain her.

Jenny Clayton had sat for hours just staring at the spot where her husband had died.

She refused to eat.

And she remained silent all the way to the hospital.

Clayton refused to answer any questions and she doggedly ignored all the police officers.

Later she swore at the priest who had offered her solace at the hospital.

"Jesus loves you" Father Michael informed her.

"Fuck off!" She screamed at the man of the cloth "I don't believe in God and it's all a load of mind controlling bollocks!"

The priest protested gently with her - but Jenny Clayton had been replaced by a woman possessed.

"Piss off !" She raged "Before I fucking kill you as well!"

She was promptly moved to a psychiatric hospital for observation.

And gradually Jenny Clayton reverted to even more erratic behaviour.

She heard voices in her head.

She developed a fear of her own shadow.

She tried to cut out her own tongue with a knife.

In fact she would spend the ensuing years under heavy sedation and in recounting the fateful day her husband was murdered to assorted psychiatric services.

Five Years Later

Jenny Clayton finally left the mental hospital on a Friday.

The house she once lived in felt like a mausoleum now.

An open grave.

There were three black crows sitting on a tree branch as Jenny walked back into her dark and empty house.

It was exactly five years to the day that Mark Jeffries murdered David Clayton before killing himself.

By Sunday evening, Jenny had finished her dinner and put on her favourite Balenciaga dress.

For half an hour she danced to Frank Sinatra.

Then she carefully applied her make up and brushed her hair.

Jenny Clayton walked calmly to the shed at the bottom of the garden.

And then she hung herself. 


Unforgettable Rendezvous

Veronica Hart wasn't quite sure what possessed her to enter the peculiar little shop.

It just seemed to beckon to her and she was unable to resist.

Veronica and her husband Jasper Hart had been living in the swanky New Acres district for six months now and they were both blissfully happy.

This was the first time that Veronica had decided to explore the new territory.

Hart was Italian by birth.

She was beautiful and had bright brown eyes,  olive skin and a mane of raven hair.

A former model and now a novelist - Veronica Hart had time on her hands.

She strode past all the pretty boutiques and expensive jewellery stores and designer label clothing stores.

Veronica knew those elegant shops well from her time in London and barely glanced at them.

She walked past the the most expensive restaurant in town where she and Jasper had eaten their first meal.

Then she noticed the dank and fetid alleyway between two shops.

It was ringed by over stuffed dustbins and it pulsated with atmosphere.

Veronica Hart was unable to contain her curiosity any longer and she walked into the darkness.

The ground was strewn with rotting fruit and vegetables and the smell was unbearable.

The bleak passageway  led out to some run down little shops.

Hart stood in her lugubrious surroundings dressed in a pretty white Donna Karan dress.

Singularly out of place in this impoverished part of town.

Suddenly she had entered another world.

There was a Chinese launderette that had seen better days.

A Chinese woman was sitting outside in a rattan chair and she watched Veronica Hart closely.

Beside the launderette stood a drab looking betting shop.

Hart could see several older men inside - all tensely staring at large screens above them and hoping for the big win.

There was a seedy looking massage parlour with a tired looking sign hanging on its hinges outside.

A young woman stood in the doorway and she stared at Hart with a suspicious look in her eyes.

She was dressed in a tight pink top and denim skirt.

Hart smiled nervously at her but the young woman glared back at her.

Right at the end of the row of tired shops was a shabby little shop called Mr Belial's Curiosity Shop.

Suddenly she had a strong desire to enter the shop but she couldn't fathom why.

She was inexplicably drawn to it.

Veronica Hart walked into the shop without a second thought.

She could never resist the pull of old antiques or rare ornaments and supernatural paraphernalia.

But the first thing that hit her when she entered the shop was the smell.

A peculiar herbal smell that defied description but seemed to permeate the entire shop.

And there was a strange atmosphere in the shop that was more of a growing sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Every empty space seemed to be crammed to the brim with rare artifacts.

Veronica Hart had stumbled upon an Aladdin's cave.

Antique clocks ticked loudly on the walls.

Ancient mirrors gleamed all around her.

Ornately worked tables and every manner of chair shone with polished care.

Lamps, antique dolls and vases looked down from every shelf and alcove.

And the musty smell of old books emanated from hundreds of books on old book cases.

Suddenly Hart felt completely at home.

And she didn't know why.

"Can I help you?" A soft voice suddenly enquired from nowhere.

Veronica Hart jumped slightly as she was jolted out of her reverie.

She turned quickly round to see a short man with a black goatee beard,  greying hair and a quizzical, wizened face.

He stared at her with burning black eyes and there was a little smirk on his weather beaten face.

Veronica felt no unease whatsoever in his presence.

In fact she felt completely comfortable with the freakish stranger.

He seemed very familiar and Hart was immediately convinced that they had met somewhere before.

But she just couldn't remember where.

And he was very odd.
He was looking deeply into Veronica's eyes and she suddenly began to feel something else.

Somewhere outside a dog barked and she averted her gaze.

"I was just looking .... I've never been in here before ..." Veronica Hart stammered.

"Looking for anything in particular?" The peculiar man asked her persuasively.

Hart noticed a gold tooth flashing in his mouth.

"Well ... not really ... Veronica replied quickly "perhaps some kind of drug or book of spells to revive my love life?"

The she laughed nervously and wondered how she could say such a thing to a person she didn't even know.

But it was true.

Much as she loved her handsome husband,  they no longer enjoyed fleshly love as they once did.

They had been a very physical couple but within three years the carnal fires had all but burnt out.

And these days their big bed was reserved for sleeping and little else.

But Veronica Hart could still arouse desire in her husband as she well knew.

"My name is Mr Belial!" The man suddenly announced as he held out a withered little hand.

He seemed to be staring right into her soul.

"I am Veronica Hart!" She finally answered shaking the gnarled hand.

Then the proprietor of the shop disappeared behind his counter.

"I have something for you" the weird little man said knowingly "it arrived today"

He pulled out an object wrapped in tissue paper which had been hidden behind the counter.

"I have a feeling you'll appreciate this!" Mr Belial added.

Then slowly and meaningfully he began unwrapping the object.

Something shining and sensual had emerged from the wrapping.

Something ancient.

Something beautiful and ugly at the same time.

From the moment Veronica saw the statue - something unspeakable stirred within her.

Hart experienced such a strong sexual arousal that she quivered violently where she stood.

Lustful sensations riveted throughout her body like lightening bolts.

She let out a gasp as her hand flew to her neck.

And all the time Mr Belial was smiling slyly at her like a wise gnome. 

Maybe it was the naked body or the horns or the lascivious look in the statue's eye.

But something had been ignited within Veronica Hart.

A sexual awakening.

She hadn't felt like this for a long time.

And what or whom exactly did the quaint little statue represent?

"The Greek god Pan" The bearded man said admiringly.

He was reading her mind

"The most erotic of all the gods" Mr Belial finished.

"I'll take it!" Veronica Hart replied quickly "However much it costs ... just wrap it up ... I want it now"

She had noticed Pan's erect penis.

"We knew you would want it!" Mr Belial smiled fulsomely as a sleek Siamese cat jumped languidly onto the counter and purred contentedly.

"He's been waiting for you!" The strange man added knowingly

Mr Belial began stroking the silky feline.

The cat mewed and  brushed against Veronica's hand.

Hart suddenly shook with desire at the sensual brush of the sinewy creature.

The odd little man was still staring at her with that strange look in his black eyes.

But she wasn't scared.

Even when the room began spinning around her - Veronica Hart felt as if she was being transported to a familiar place.

And she swore that she could hear pan pipes playing softly in the distance.

One hour later and Hart suddenly awoke in her car.

She shivered slightly against the cold.

Her dress was disarrayed and above her knees and her hands were between her legs.

There was an odd tingling sensation in her groin.

Hart realised that she  must have been pleasuring herself and fallen asleep.

But she had no recollection of the experience.

Veronica must have climaxed but she couldn't remember when it happened.

She suddenly felt dazed and disorientated.

Hart felt as if she'd taken a powerful drug or had drunk too much wine.

She quickly pulled down her dress and anxiously looked around her.

Then she buzzed down her window and looked out.

Her car was on the side of the road and there was no sign of any cars on the motor way.

Everything was still.

It was just herself and the statue on the seat beside her.

Then gradually she remembered.

It was all coming back to her

That bearded weirdo and his freakish shop...

And the statue of the Greek god Pan.

He stared back at her with a quizzical expression on his saturnine face.

"This is madness!" Veronica exclaimed "Get a grip!"

She was suddenly ashamed of herself.

How can a statue arouse me this much? ...

Hart was perplexed.

Is my life so empty? ...

Her life was perfect and she had the perfect husband.

Veronica Hart decided to pull herself together and drive home.

She turned the statue round on the chair.

But as she did so she caught sight of the god's bare bottom and a fresh rush of desire coursed through her yearning body.

Veronica suddenly noticed that the torso of the god was taut and muscular and there was a ripple of chest hair.

Her finger traced the chest of the statue down to the erect penis.

There was a strange stirring in the pit of her stomach

Veronica couldn't help but notice the size of the god's member.

Another surge of lust vibrated through her.

"Oh yes!" She sighed.

Suddenly she imagined herself being ridden by a laughing Pan in the middle of a secluded wood.

She anticipated his every thrust and was transported to ecstasy.

And then for some odd reason she remembered the shop keepers piercing eyes and she felt overwhelmingly aroused.

Veronica Hart hit the accelerator.

Her gorgeous husband would be waiting for her at home.

They were going to make love like they had never made love before.

They would be mounting each other all over the house.

Veronica's body pulsated with desire as she raced home.

Her mind was full of erotic fantasies and delicious sexual scenarios.

They were going to work through the entire Karma Sutra.

They were going to screw like rabbits in every room in the house.

He was going to fuck her against every door.

They were going to use fruit.

And sex toys.

There was to be no end to the carnal adventures that awaited them.

Pan had opened the door.

And the Hart's were about to drink deeply from the fountain of pleasure.

Thirty minutes later and Veronica Hart parked her car and ran into her house like a woman possessed.

In one hand she held a bag of groceries and in the other she held the statue of Pan.

And there lay her handsome husband.

Jasper Hart.

He was lying on the sofa and reading War and Peace.

Hart looked up at his wife and smiled.

He was blond, blue-eyed and athletic.

It must have been the sight of him in those tight Speedos that first captured her attention five years previously.

And the rippling torso as he ripped through the water.

The easy smile and firm jutting chin.

Or perhaps it was his charm and impeccable manners.

Whatever it was,  it had captivated a passionate Latin woman.

That was why her first book took so long to write.

Veronica di Marco was too busy trying to catch a glimpse of a virtually naked Jasper Hart at the swimming pool.

Reclining at the side of the pool in an expensive bikini with her giggling friends.

Hold me close (by Murmele
Veronica's honed and sensuous body yearned for the sexy jock to notice her.

Veronica di Marco - dark,  Italian and lovely.

She was determined to get her man.

And she succeeded.

They were the perfect match.

Two beautiful people in a beautiful world.

Both were ambitious in their own ways.

Jasper was a successful artist.

And Veronica was a bestselling author.

Life could not get any better.

And in the early days it was all marathon sex sessions.

Save for passion which had evaporated over night - life was but a dream.

"Hi honey" Jasper said warmly as he flung his book aside

Jasper's hairy chest was showing through his open shirt.

There was that vulgar unmistakable cleft in his chin

And a bulge between his lithe legs.

Waves of lust ran through Veronica's throbbing body.

She dropped the grocery bag.

Fruit and vegetables rolled across the floor.

Then she carefully put the statue on the table.

Without saying a word, Veronica Hart proceeded to unzip her dress.

Then she unclasped her bra and released her ample bosom.

Jasper Hart's eyes were open wide.

His wife's breasts suddenly looked delicious.

Veronica let her abundant raven hair fall loose.

She shook it out.

Jasper had always loved her hair - it had a smell all its own.

Then she kicked off her heels and stood naked before her husband.

Veronica Hart was pulsating with passion.

She was the goddess Aphrodite waiting for Adonis to transport her to a carnal paradise.

"I want it now!" Veronica Hart demanded firmly.

His wife's directness sent a flood of unexpected lust throughout Jasper Hart's body.

And he responded to Veronica as she knew he would.

The next eight passionate hours passed as if in a dream like state.

Finally Jasper and Veronica Hart came apart from one another.

Their naked bodies glistened with sweat.

Jasper was panting and breathless but somehow completely exhilarated.

Veronica's body was vibrating and she let out an animal sigh of contentment.

Their bedroom had been transformed into a carnal palace.

A sexual oasis.

Jasper and Veronica were participants in an erotically charged ritual that had no beginning or end.

And they were not yet satisfied.

They had only just started.

Veronica Hart began licking her husband's hairy chest hungrily.

The woman was insatiable.

Jasper Hart threw his head back and groaning with pleasure as his wife proceeded to pleasure him.

They had made love endlessly without pausing and were determined to explore every sexual pleasure they could dream up.

One orgasm followed the other in quick succession.

And time had become obsolete.

For they were both one.

And suddenly everything had become erotic.

moist ... wet ... deep ... euphoric ... orgasmic ... screw ... fuck ... taste ... whore ... stud ... sensation ... copulation ... fornication ...lick ... suck ... cock ... cunt ... cream ... come ...

Words tumbled over themselves in Veronica's mind.

And came alive in her throbbing body.

Jasper Hart was in a state of bliss.

He wasn't thinking anymore.

His penis had taken over.

For this was pleasure without end.

The statue of Pan looked down at them from the table near the bed.

The Greek god observed their sexual gymnastics with a look of pure sexual contentment.

It was as if Pan had instigated and participated in their pleasures.

After several more hours of carnality the couple were finally satiated.

It was now dark outside.

Morning soon came.

But the couple were vibrating with energy.

Veronica followed Jasper into the shower.

A sudden and fresh paroxysm of desire drove the rampant couple to have energetic sex in the shower.

Later in the kitchen, Veronica Hart sat at the table watching her husband intently.

Jasper Hart was wearing tight Levis and a tight Bench t-shirt.

Veronica was avidly admiring his muscled legs.

And the bulge between his legs.

The statue of Pan was sitting beside her on the chair.

For some inexplicable reason she had begun taking the statue with her wherever she went.

Jasper handed her a cup of coffee.

Then she noticed his taut chest beneath the t-shirt and desire suddenly possessed her once more.

She reached out and began caressing his muscled chest.

Her hand slipped between his legs so she could feel his manhood.

Hart was feeling himself respond but something inside him urged him to stop.

"Honey, we need to cool this down!" Jasper Hart said commandingly.

Her husband gently put her hands down.

"Its getting too much!" He added.

Silence descended upon the couple.

"You certainly haven't been complaining!" Veronica finally responded angrily.

She cradled the statue of Pan in her arms.

"You've been screwing me for hours and loving every minute of it!" Veronica Hart added in a rage.

She might have been angry but she was still mentally undressing her handsome husband.

Everything he did was sexual.

All the fruit looked sexual.

Words had hidden meanings.

It was all so erotically charged.

A big sexual festival.

And Veronica Hart was its high priestess.

"This isn't like you!" Jasper Hart exclaimed "You've changed!"

Veronica slumped back in her chair.

Her lust had been thwarted.

"I have always loved sex and you know it!" She replied sulkily.

But the couple were no longer interested in talking.

Forty minutes later and Veronica was walking quickly down the street.

The statue of Pan was in her leather bag and his eyes were peering out.

Like a peeping Tom.

Everywhere she turned, there seemed to be sexually explicit advertisements on billboards.

Models holding phallic symbols to their mouths or between their open legs.

People seemed to be mounting each other in the street.

In her feverish mind people seemed to be mating everywhere.

A little dog was licking its owner between his legs.

Two nuns were having sex under a fountain.

A police officer was pleasuring himself under a tree.

People were staring lasciviously at each other as they passed.

Their clothes fell away.

And Veronica Hart suddenly felt the urge to escape.

She ran into a cafe. 

Hart attempted to block out the erotic images in her mind.

The smiling waitress bought Veronica's coffee over and quietly put it on the table.

And Veronica had the uncontrollable urge to make love to the young woman there and then on the floor of the cafe.

Everyone in the cafe turned to look at Hart.

They smiled in unison.

And suddenly they were all completely naked.

Veronica ran screaming out of the cafe.

She wasn't sure where she was going but she had the sudden urge to light a candle and say a prayer.

Hart found St Mary's Catholic Church on the corner of the street.

She would be safe there.

The priest was just coming out and Veronica ran to him.

She suddenly fell to her knees before him.

Veronica Hart felt an urgent need to confess.

"Father I have sinned ..." Hart announced as she kissed his garments.

The she slowly looked up at the priest.

His eyes were bright, emerald green.

His beard was black and lustrous.

He was a very handsome man.

And there was a knowing look in his face.

"There, there child!" The priest said soothingly "There is no need to be afraid!"

Father Thomas put his hand on her head and Hart immediately noticed how warm and firm his hand was.

She mused on how well-built his body must be beneath the priestly raiment.

And how passionate his forbidden lovemaking must be.

He was grinning down at her and there was a glint in his eyes.

Suddenly Veronica Hart imagined Father Thomas lying on a sofa naked as she pleasured him.

He was groaning with pleasure.

Hart lurched away from him - completely appalled.

Then she ran into the bushes.

"Get away from me Father!" Hart exclaimed from the bushes "If you know whats good for you ... you'll stay away!"

Then suddenly everything went black and all she remembered was waking up in bed with Jasper watching over her.

"Father Thomas bought you home" her husband explained "he was concerned about you ... said you kept babbling incoherently ... he said that you tried to kiss him and tear his vestments off!"

But Veronica Hart was too ashamed to speak.

Three days later and Veronica was sitting in the little doctors surgery.

"Doctor ... help me ... I think I must be a nymphomaniac ... I can't stop thinking about sex  ... am I going mad?" She wailed.

The good looking Asian doctor smiled reassuringly at her.

"Not at all Mrs Hart!" Doctor Khan answered "Its perfectly normal for a woman to experience a healthy sexual appetite"

"But doctor!" Veronica pleaded "I have these huge urges that I can't control ... and I have to satisfy them all the time ... something has taken me over ... my poor husband!"

"I assure you that your husband is more grateful then you realise!" Doctor Khan replied knowingly.

Veronica suddenly noticed that Doctor Khan had a sensual mouth.

She observed that he must have a lithe body beneath that cashmere jumper and corduroy trousers.

There was a sensuous whisper of promise in his black eyes.

For several moments Veronica Hart imagined herself transported to Karachi and a big white room where she and Doctor Khan were copulating with abandon.

Doctor Khan was a master of Eastern delights.

Her finger trailed a long path across his dark and hairy chest.

Veronica Hart smiled at Doctor Khan as she slowly began to unbutton her blouse.

A broad grin spread across the doctor's handsome face.

"I think you may need a little private treatment" Doctor Khan smiled suggestively.

And Veronica Hart knew exactly what he meant.

"I won't be taking any more patients today!" The doctor buzzed through to reception.

Then he locked the door and removed his jumper and proceeded to unzip his trousers.

His dark body was muscled beneath his clothes and Veronica Hart grinned at the sight of his large penis

She was completely naked now and quivering in anticipation.

The statue of Pan peered out of Hart's leather bag as the naked doctor kissed Veronica Hart passionately before placing her on his desk.

Hart eagerly received every one of Doctor Khan's thrusts.

He was indeed an expert in the ways of love.

And the Greek god flashed them both a smile of sheer satisfaction.

It was Saturday afternoon.

Jasper had gone to the lake with a group of his best friends and wouldn't be home until the evening.

Veronica was home alone.

Hart had been hoping to continue with her new book.

But she could only think of one thing.

She decided to take a long shower.

Then the doorbell rang.

Veronica quickly wrapped a towel around her body and went downstairs to open the door.

She opened the door to a tall and handsome black man.

He immediately grinned at her showing perfect white teeth.

Veronica noticed how sleek his ebony skin was.

She noticed how full and sensual his lips were.

His tongue was pink and moist.

And his body was as taught and lithe as an athlete's beneath the jump suit.

The man's arms were big and muscular.

And she suspected that he must have a big member as well.

Desire flooded her body.

Veronica Hart had the sudden urge to mate like a wild animal.

She had the sudden urge to drag the handsome man back to her den and and make him fill her in every hole.

"Hello Mrs Hart!" The man said in a resonate voice "You called our team regarding the alarm system in your home"

The he pointed to the badge on his chest.

But Veronica wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying.

She was too busy sizing him up and staring at the bulge between his big legs.

"Screw that!" Hart exclaimed.

And with the slightest of gestures,  she let the bath towel fall away.

Hart stood naked before the workman as his eyes widened. 

"Fuck me big boy!" Veronica Hart urged the eager black man.

Three hours passed in a whirlwind.

Hart and the workman had sex on the sofa twice and then proceeded to copulate in the marital bed several times more.

They took a shower together and had sex three more times in the cubicle before screwing on the kitchen floor.

The workman even found time between sex sessions to fix the alarm system.

"You've got a big dick you naughty boy!" Veronica Hart informed him with a smile of satisfaction.

She had her back to him as she dressed.

But by the time she turned round, the young man had already hurriedly dressed himself and disappeared out of the house.

Veronica Hart never heard the front door closing.

The statue of Pan stared at her from the bedside table with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Later that night things began to get darker.

Belatedly Veronica was beginning to experience unbearable guilt and conflicting emotions.

She felt dirty.

And she felt ashamed of herself.

She stared at her husband as he ate his dinner and her heart ached inside her.

Body flow (by venus galerie
I have betrayed the love of my life ...

But she also felt wretched.

And the smell of the man she had seduced earlier was still upon her.

What madness has taken over me? ...

The statue of Pan stared at her from the table.

And there was a sly expression on his face now.

The statue seemed to be the silent participant in all her sexual exploits.

What powers does he possess?

Veronica Hart was desolate.

What drug did that little freak from the curiosity shop give me?

Something magic must be in this statue to make her do the things she did ...

She carefully explained everything to her husband.

He was devastated but listened intently to her sexual deviancy.

And he chose to forgive her because he loved her.

And because he knew that she was not behaving like the woman he had married.

And not the beautiful Italian woman he had married.

"Ever since I bought that thing into the house ... I have been like a woman possessed!" Veronica suddenly wailed "Ever since I entered that weird shop I have behaved like an animal"

"Let's take that thing back where you bought it" Jasper Hart answered simply.

Hope suddenly entered the frame.

"But in the meantime" he added "that damn thing can go in the garage"

Hart grabbed the offending statue and took it out.

As soon as the statue was out of the vicinity, Veronica Hart fell into a deep slumber where she sat.

She slept for the first time in days.

"You dirty little bastard!" Jasper Hart snarled contemptuously at the statue in his hands.

Then he shoved it face down into a box in the garage.

The following day,  Jasper and Veronica Hart walked down the familiar,  dank alleyway.

The smell of rotten fruit and vegetables seemed particularly bad that morning.

The gloomy parade of shops were exactly as Veronica Hart had found them that fateful day.

Except for one major thing.

The curiosity shop was completely boarded up now.

A tatty "for sale" sign had been stuck outside it.

A Chinese woman was sitting outside the launderette in a rattan chair as she had been the day Veronica discovered the secluded row of shops.

The older woman smiled knowingly at the couple.

"We are looking for Mr Belial" Veronica informed her "Do you know where he is?"

"Mr Belial is gone" The Chinese woman replied "he ... a bad man"

Jasper and Veronica looked at each other.

"There was big trouble!" The woman continued "And Mr Belial ... he disappear like ghost ... shop gone now"

"Do you know where Belial has gone?" Jasper Hart asked the senior.

The woman smiled knowingly again and the couple felt a shiver run down their spines. 

"No" she answered simply "I not know"

The dejected couple began to walk away.

The statue of Pan was smirking at them from Veronica's leather bag.

Mocking them both in their failure

Suddenly the woman rushed up to Veronica Hart and grabbed her arm.

"Mr Belial! ... Mr Belial!" She kept repeating as she looked intensely into Veronica's eyes.

Unreasoning fear had swept over the couple as the older woman continued to stare at them.

" Mr Belial ... he is the Devil!" The strange woman finished chillingly.

A large black raven screeched loudly from a tree above their heads.

The shaken couple arrived home and immediately took the statue out into the garden

They grabbed two shovels from the shed.

And proceeded to hit at the statue.

Jasper and Veronica used as much force as they could muster but still the statue would not break.

What evil does this statue contain?

A sudden rush of ugly lust reasserted itself in Veronica at the sight of Jasper's rippling torso straining beneath his tight t-shirt.

Hart was unable to contain her desire much longer.

"Let's do it here!" Veronica urged her husband eagerly.

For a moment he stopped and stared at his beautiful wife in her tight Chloe blouse.

The cleft in her large breasts was just visible

"Let's have sex now!" Veronica Hart commanded him.

And she proceeded to unbutton her blouse.

But something inside Jasper Hart urged him to desist.

He shoved her back.

Then he continued to hit the wretched statue.

Pan stared up at him with a grin on his saturnine face.

He seemed to be laughing at their foolishness.

Veronica threw her shovel down and tore at Jasper's t-shirt.

If he wasn't going to submit she would make him submit.

They would bless their union with a marathon sex session well into the small hours of the morning.

"Pussy needs attendance!" Veronica Hart declared as she tore at her husband's tight t-shirt.

Jasper pushed her back more violently this time.

"Cut it out honey!" Hart exclaimed "This is the statue talking and not you!"

"I want your big cock inside me!" Veronica demanded "And I want your cock inside me now!"

Suddenly she leapt onto her husband's back as her nails dug into him.

Jasper let out a howl of pain as he dropped his shovel.

Veronica tore off much of his t-shirt.

And now she was clawing at his face.

Jasper Hart managed to shake off his wife and as he spun round he slapped her hard across the face.

Veronica fell to the ground.

"Sorry honey!" Hart said apologetically to his unconscious wife.

And then he proceeded to bash away at the statue.

One Year Later

An eventful year passed easily for the Hart's.

Jasper Hart had made a cool million on his recent paintings.

And Veronica Hart had at last finished her book.

All was well again.

And there had been no sexual shenanigans or mention of the Greek god Pan.

It had been nothing but a bad dream.

A nightmare best left in the past.

Now Veronica Hart was sitting on a train.

She was going to see her publisher.

The finished manuscript of her book was sitting on her lap in its leather case.

Veronica Hart felt a strong sense of fulfilment.

She felt like a new woman.

In a couple of weeks time,  she and her husband would be on a plane bound for Antigua.

The couple had renewed their vows and they were embarking on a new chapter in their lives.

A long awaited vacation beckoned them.

And a chance to rediscover each other like never before.

Life was good.

Veronica Hart hardly noticed when a tall man in a dark suit got onto the train and sat opposite her.

He was dressed in Prada and was wearing a pair of shiny black Crockett and Jones leather shoes.

The man appeared suave and sophisticated.

Veronica Hart was unaware of him at first.

But something about the stranger caught her eye.

The man had a swarthy complexion and a goatee and there was a white streak in his jet black hair.

He was classically handsome with keen features and an aquiline nose.

He was exotic but Veronica was unsure of his nationality and assumed he must be Mediterranean.

Or perhaps Middle Eastern.

There was a distinctive herbal smell about him.

A musky smell that was oddly intoxicating and instantly recognisable.

"Where have I smelt that scent before?"

Veronica noticed that the handsome man was athletic and well built beneath the crisp expensive designer suit.

But it was his black and piercing.eyes that were drawing her in.

They seemed to cut right into her.

There were dark fires burning in those deep eyes and they were strangely familiar.

Hart had seen those eyes somewhere before ...

Then a sudden and expected rush of desire raced through Veronica Hart's body like lightening.

An ugly burst of lust had taken her totally by surprise.

She was staring transfixed at the stranger before her.

As a knowing smile crept across the handsome man's face.

Veronica Hart gasped.

The mysterious man's smile slowly broke into a broad grin.

And a gold tooth shone in his mouth.

Veronica Hart was overcome by such a strong sexual urge that her entire body began throbbing.

Just then everything went dark as the train entered a tunnel.

Pan (by Arghail


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