Bad Ending

CODE: D (set in the D Is For Damien storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): Out Of Time (unwritten)

PAIRING: Luther Broderick/Alicia (M/F)

EXPLANATION: BEHOLD! The very FIRST erotic scene I ever wrote! Well, actually...no. That honor goes to "As Forward As You Want." HOWEVER! A very, very, VERY early prototype of this piece WAS written back when I was like a freshman in high school, I believe...and then ended up lost. o_o Probably for the best, considering. Summary, Alicia is a Scorpio toady who is absolutely in LUST with high priest Luther Broderick. In one of the D Is For Damien novels, by now I forget which, Luther is apparently killed by...Psyche Cooper! Dum-dum-dummmm! Using some occult means, Alicia, in the in-progress (but mostly unwritten) Out Of Time, manages to bring him back to life...if he was ever really dead in the first place (who knows anymore)...and expects gratitude. Well...he does give her a kiss...and then this scene follows a while later. This is the "Acceptance," which is the high priest's ritual of inducting a female member completely into Scorpio--meaning, making her a FULL member, not just a breeder or sex object. (See "Selena's Acceptance" for Luther's own explanation of this ritual.) Not many women are given the Acceptance. So Alicia is beyond thrilled. What she really wants, however, is to become Luther's primary lover, as he hasn't taken a cult favorite...but judging by the end of this, it doesn't work out that way. (I can tell you already that it doesn't. Turns out Luther's got his eye on...Psyche Cooper! Dum-dum-dummmm...!

DISCLAIMER: As this is a VERY early scene, expect some errors...though I think it's pretty much on the mark, except for nasty POV problems. Oh, and that "stand" or "table" should more properly be called the "altar." In case you're wondering what that is that goes wrong at the end of the scene? Luther was sexually abused by his father when he was a child...and as a result oral sex is NOT on his list of favorite activities. Alicia should know better by now.

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Bad Ending

She half-wished that he would say something, perhaps praise her, or anything; yet he didn't speak. He simply came forward, tipped her head like he had the last time, and kissed her.

She shivered and put her arms around him. In response he turned and backed her toward the stand. When they got to it he leaned over her. She was half on, half off, still standing; he started undoing his pants. It was too slow for her; she reached out and tried to help him. His pants fell; she tugged down on his underwear impatiently. He raised her skirt above her hips, pulling down her own underwear. He didn't look down at her. He placed himself between her legs, keeping them apart with his own. Alicia groaned with impatience. "Hurry," she whispered, momentarily forgetting who she was ordering. He kissed her, placing his hands on her hips, positioning himself; then he thrust inside.

She howled. He gritted his teeth, the sound seeming to splinter through his head. Already she was wriggling her hips and gasping, lust welling up in her eyes. She took his face in her hands, her tongue probing his mouth. She had to tell herself that this could be the only time they ever did this; as such she had to get the most that she could.

Luther pulled away, then thrust again, harder. Alicia was forced onto her toes. She gasped again and clutched at his buttocks. He began moving in rhythm now, his muscles contracting and relaxing. Alicia was pushed back into the stand over and over. Her skirt was hitched to her waist; she groaned and arched into him. His thrusting was hard; with each push he grew closer to lifting her off of the floor. She could hear him growling deep in his throat and wondered if he enjoyed her. She undulated against him, caressing his back and buttocks, even bringing her hands up to cup him in front. Maybe, if she made a good enough impression, pleased him, she could get more! She might even become his favorite! And then, she could have him whenever she wished...

Luther's breath came hot and labored. His eyes were slits. He leaned forward, his hips grinding, pushing into her; she gasped at his strong throbbing. He was getting faster and starting to pant. Alicia was panting too, arching her body as much as she could in the awkward position. Her hands didn't leave his buttocks. He grunted as he thrust; he repositioned his legs so they were outside hers, and twisted his ankles around hers to get leverage. Alicia groaned and writhed at the sharp, hot pulsing inside. She dropped her upper body back over the stand, moving back and forth with his pounding strokes. He grabbed her thighs and squeezed, pulling himself, growling in his throat, his eyes full of lust and rage. His thrusting increased; he rammed into her, again, again, his buttocks tightening and loosening. Alicia gasped, writhing upon the stand, her breasts heaving. He grunted with each thrust, gasping once in a while as he managed to go deeper. Everything he saw looked as red as blood; he could feel the fury inside him. He felt absolutely nothing for Alicia herself, contrary to what she might think; yet he was hot and hard, deep inside, his hips grinding into hers.

He let out a noise halfway between a groan and a snarl; he squirmed lower and thrust upward, painfully hard. Alicia shrieked; her feet left the floor. The sharp edge of the stand ground into her back yet she didn't notice it. Her legs rubbed against his each time he pushed her upwards; she had to grab onto the stand to keep her balance. Her muscles were spasming now; she couldn't believe how impossibly deep he was going. With each thrust her feet left the floor; each time he pulled out, she sank back. Her shirt was soaked with sweat. He stopped thrusting upwards and instead rammed into her straight, his muscles jerking. The stabbing motion was unusually harsh; Alicia gasped in pain and surprise. For some reason he didn't seem to be enjoying himself as much as she was; it was almost as if he were furious with her, ramming her back into the stand over and over, snarling like a mad dog. Yet she suddenly felt her climax; with a scream she shuddered and writhed against him, her hands leaving the stand to claw his back. She lifted her body up from the stand and kissed him, attempting to draw him in; he responded, his hands leaving her thighs to grasp her face and the back of her head, hard; his tongue stabbed into her mouth. He pulled himself out; she'd never felt him climax. His kiss was hard, his touch brutal; she didn't care, she had him. She laughed into his mouth and raked her hands through his hair; he hadn't stopped kissing her yet, so they must not be done. Twice! Twice an Acceptance! He must feel something for her--

They were both standing again, looking as if they were fighting with each other; their hands and arms tangled repeatedly, clawing, raking. He tore at her shirt; she removed it gladly, dimly wondering why he hadn't removed it before. Yet he paid no attention to her bra, ignoring it as he pushed her around the edge of the stand to the other side. She was actually touching him more than he touched her. However she was so busy that she didn't notice the incongruity.

They moved in circles, biting at each other, her hands wild all over him; reaching the other side of the table she accidentally tripped, falling over it. When she attempted to get up he pressed himself down over her back, his breath hot on her ear; his hands gripped her shoulders. She suddenly realized what he intended to do, and squealed, only regretting that in the position she couldn't kiss him back. He pressed her upper body down over the stand, almost crushing her into it; she could feel him yanking up her skirt again, around her waist. She laughed and squirmed. Then she felt his legs between hers. He pushed her own legs apart with his, his breath sharp and fast in his throat; twisting his ankles around hers, he placed his hands on her shoulders, positioned himself, and entered her from behind.

She howled as she had before, her back arching so that her buttocks pulled him with her. Luther snarled and pulled out, then rammed in again. When her skirt slid down he violently yanked it to the side, almost pulling it off; he grasped her buttocks with his hands and forced them apart as much as he could. Alicia panted heavily, quivering against him. He kept his hands on her hips, pressing against her pelvic bone in the front, and started thrusting inside furiously, grunting savagely as he ground into her. Alicia gasped and cried out; her hands left the table so that she was pushed into it repeatedly; she took hold of her own buttocks and spread them, lifting herself onto her toes so he could penetrate further. The two of them rocked back and forth, madly, frenziedly; she screamed while he bent over her, growling and baring his teeth. His stabbing thrusts were almost savage, again nearly lifting her from the floor; more than once she slammed into the stand, gritting her teeth and hissing in pain. She did wish that he would slow down just a little bit, so she could enjoy it more; yet he hadn't climaxed yet, and she could still feel his hardness within her, urgent and frantic. His thighs squeezed against hers; when she slipped he snarled and forced himself in her so hard that they both lurched over the stand. Its edge cut into her ribs, knocking the breath out of her; she gasped painfully as he groaned and pulled out, ramming himself in again. She was beginning to feel a little frightened now; why was he acting so enraged? Hadn't he been anticipating this? Didn't he enjoy it? She refused to believe that he didn't; she could feel him, hard and thrusting, and if that wasn't proof that it was good then she didn't know what was.

Luther was snarling continuously now, his grip hard on her pelvis. He was thrusting in and out so rapidly that her feet left the floor and didn't return. He stand cut into her painfully, yet his snarl rose to a shriek as he thrust, faster and harder, throwing his head back and spasming, grinding into her, ramming up into her from behind, splaying her buttocks wide, straining onto his toes, howling--

She screamed, pain, pleasure, terror mixed as he slammed her into the table, thrusting inside one last time, orgasming; his hot fluid shot into her and she couldn't stop the growing shriek from leaving her throat, squirming her hips from side to side. He grabbed her hips and held her in place, snarling at her over her shoulder; startled, she stopped. He still moved against her, in small, rapid spasms; he threw back his head again and gasped as his seed continued to pour into her. In the back of her head Alicia found the dim hope that perhaps one would find its place, perhaps grow--it would be a wonderful thing to give him a child, as none of the other women had, then he'd surely want her, want to be with her forever--after all of this he must--

Yet she felt his muscles loosen, and he collapsed over her, gasping for breath. She didn't dare move; Let him decide what he wants to do in his own time, she thought; maybe that kind of compliance was what he favored most. She was dripping with sweat and exhausted, her ribs aching and her own chest heaving, but she dimly hoped that he would turn her around, kiss her, have her again; maybe on top of the stand, as he was supposed to do it with his favorites, as she'd thought; though he hadn't done her that way, she assumed that it was simply the heat of the moment, perhaps this was the greater honor, getting it twice; it had to be, or else he wouldn't have done it; but she desired it nonetheless--

However, after several moments had passed and he'd finally regained his breath, he pulled himself out; she groaned softly, disappointed. He held onto the stand for a moment, as if unable to stand on his own, then slid to the floor, sinking to his knees. His head dropped down over his chest; she could still hear him breathing heavily.

Alicia frowned; this didn't seem right. He shouldn't be so tired. Yet he slumped against the floor, and a moment later relaxed. She made a halfhearted attempt to straighten herself out--one was always supposed to look in order before the high priest, after all--smoothing down her skirt and brushing back her hair. She still wore her bra so she didn't have to cover herself. She bent over him and found that it was as it had appeared--Luther had fallen asleep.

Was he supposed to do that? He must have worked harder than she'd thought. With a grin she slipped down to sit beside him; she could spend the whole night there, and perhaps get something when they woke up. There was nothing in it that could hurt. Resting her head against his leg, she closed her eyes, felt weariness take its hold--and drifted away.

* * * * *

A beam of light directly across her eyes woke her; she squinted and blinked several times, trying to figure out her surroundings. She noted suddenly and with surprise that Luther lay beside her, fast asleep; his head rested on one arm, while the other rested on the floor. He was on his side, facing her; yet he was in such a deep sleep that the sunlight shining in the windows didn't wake him. His robe was parted over one leg and she could hear him breathing, slowly, in and out.

She stared at him for a long time. Like her, he was now naked underneath that covering; all that she had to do was lift the robe and look. She knew that all that would do would be to increase her desire; yet waking him just to satisfy herself probably wouldn't be the best idea. He'd been known to lose his temper for pettier things. But there was something else she could do, something she was sure would please both of them. A slow smile spread across her face; she sidled closer to him, carefully lifting the robe to the side. She reached forward and took hold of him in her hands; he frowned in his sleep but didn't wake up. As soon as she was sure that he was still fully asleep, she bent over him and took him in her mouth, sucking, her tongue exploring. She closed her eyes and forced herself not to moan in pleasure; she was moving her hips slowly from side to side, as if he were in her. In the back of her mind she knew that he must like this.

Suddenly she felt as if she were thrown back; opening her eyes, she saw that in reality he'd pulled himself away abruptly. He was wide awake now, his eyes wide open, furious.

"No!" he shouted, and his hand met her face sharply, sending her sprawling backwards, landing painfully on her elbows. She quickly regained her balance and looked up at him, startled. Luther stood up, towering over her; he bared his teeth again, this time in pure rage.

"Never!" he snarled, and the look on his face frightened her so much that she scrabbled to her feet, retrieving her shirt, pulling it on as she ran to the door as quickly as she could, shoving it open and staggering out into the hallway, half of a broken sob escaping her throat. Gregory was seated down the hall, having dozed off the night before, expecting to usher her out; instead he awoke abruptly, to see her run off down the hall, her shirt open and her hair disheveled, sobbing wildly. Luther stepped out into the hallway, glancing after her; he turned and noticed Gregory's stare. As soon as he looked at him Gregory could see the look in his eyes and stood up, leaving the hallway as quickly and quietly as he could. He knew when it was best to keep out of Luther's way. Today was definitely going to be one of those days.

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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.