A Short Novel by d r pomme (first three chapters)15:45 Nov 09 2008
Times Read: 707
If you have already read this chapter please navigate to Chapter Second or Chapter Third
The fourth chapter will be posted on Nov. 16.
Chapter First
Meeting at the Mall
Richard Cummings stared at his reflection in the mirror longer than usual that evening. Five years prior, on his 57th birthday, he had first begun his nightly ritual of washing his face with an anti-aging soap and then applying an anti-aging, anti-wrinkle lotion. He was not entirely sure why he wanted to fight the aging process. There seemed to be something that he still wanted to do and he didn't want to appear too old for whatever it was.
Richard had not done a lot of things in his life. He had decided at an early age that nothing was nearly as important as people pretended. He had kept busy most of his adult life not doing a lot of things. A lot of things were not important. In fact it seemed quite possible that nothing was important. Unless you decided it was important. Then it was important even though it really didn't make any difference to anything. That had always been his fundamental truth. He didn't like it much but it was his truth.
On Richard's 57th birthday his wife and his two children, both in graduate school now, gave him a nice party. They said a lot of nice things. He liked that a lot. Still it reminded him that he had been a good husband but not great and it had not mattered a lot to him. He had been a good father, better than his father, but still he had made errors that tormented him sometimes. Being a good father had mattered for a time. Now though his children were adults, on verge of something, a little better equipped than he had been at their age. Still they were the same as he; two sentient beings dangling from a thread over a meaningless vat of nothing much.
Richard had not particularly wanted children. He liked kids, his friends kids especially, but really any kids who weren't making too much noise when he was hung over. It was nothing about children that had caused Richard to not want his own. It was the world; it was life. any Meaningless existence and getting worse. And even that was better than death he thought. At least when alive, you could an occasional pleasant breeze, wonderful flavors, tantalizing flesh to run your hands over... That was where he generally stopped. Sex. He had always liked that. Not too surprisingly, wanting a partner he could count on for sex had led him into fatherhood. Nancy had wanted children. And he had loved her. He would always correct himself at this point. He still loved her. But she had not been the answer. She had not provided a meaning to drive out his truth. She had left him a few years after the party. She had found someone a bit younger and a bit more cheerful. It seemed reasonable to Richard and she had let him keep the house.
So Richard wanted to stay young a bit longer. He thought there was something he needed or wanted or possibly even was meant to do. It seemed like it would have something to do with sex. And sex was the playground of the young, or so it seemed. Or maybe it didn't have anything to do with sex, still being young seemed like a good idea, especially since death was so terrifying.
Today though, Richard had more to ponder. He stared at his face because he was both younger and older than he had been in so very long. At least since his days as a mind expanding drug using philosophy major in college. He felt the butterfly bandages on his chest, just below his left nipple. The sting reminded him of her lips. Dear god what had happened? Richard thought about things for days before not doing them. He did not leap into something. He stared at his face. What happened to Richard, he wondered. Who am I? He closed his eyes and smiling he went over ever detail. He had gone to a shop that sold crystals, strange clothing and an eclectic assortment of all manner of stuff. He wasn't sure if he was looking for something to buy or just wanted to look at the women who worked there or shopped there. Their hair was deep black or bright red or bright purple or a combination of wonderful unnatural colours. Pierced eyebrows, a pierced nose, often a pierced tongue, sometimes a pierced lip with a gold loop. Richard dreamt of kissing a woman with a ring in her lip; of course her tongue would also be pierced with some sort of gold ball on the top. He did not approve of pierced tongues he had read that they could damage your teeth but he was not interested in approving of this imaginary pierced woman with too much dark eye shadow and a nasty snarling smile. He just wanted to kiss her. Again and again.
The woman he had noticed that day in the crystal store did not have a ring through her lip. She did have jet black hair with streaks of red and purple. And she had a pierced eyebrow, a small diamond on the side of her left nostril, and a gold ball just to right of center about an inch below her lower lip. She did not have too much dark makeup. She did not appear to have very much makeup at all. Her skin was pale in sharp contrast to the dark red lipstick which seemed to be the only makeup she wore.
She was wearing a black blouse, a black jacket with a lot of silver, buttons and stuff, faded torn black jeans, and dressy black boots with ornate silver buckles. He noticed her fingernails had bright black polish as she pulled some money from her hip pocket to pay for something. At the same time he realized that he was staring and that she knew it. He tried to turn away but all he could do was turn red and keep staring. That seemed to surprise her and perhaps to please her. At any rate she had smiled as she handed the bills to the cashier.
The cashier counted the money. “umm you're a dollar nineteen short.”
“Oh” She looked directly at Richard “mind covering the dollar nineteen for me?”
“Uh sure, no problem.” He pulled out his wallet, trying to act like this was a normal thing, like maybe he knew her or something. He didn't want the woman behind the counter to think he was a fool. He looked in his wallet and tried to remember how much money she was short. He knew it was not a lot but more than a dollar. He pulled out the ten to be safe and handed it to the cashier. The cashier took the ten counted out some change and held it out. The woman he was staring at took the change and turned to him.
“Let's go have a coffee.”
“Yes a coffee. That sounds good”
As Richard walked out a nervous step behind her, he felt a wave of gratitude. He could go back to that store. She had not made him look a fool. In fact he thought she had made him look kind of cool. Like he was with her.
“Oh by the way” she said, “I'm keeping the change. I think you got your money's worth staring at me in there.”
“Oh yeah, umm sorry. I didn't mean..”
“What that you think I look like a Goth Punk Freak?”
“No I didn't mean to stare. And no I mean, Goth? Yeah I guess I thought that you are into the Goth look, sorry if that is not...”
She was laughing now. Just like anyone would laugh, which was both reassuring and a little disappointing.
“Goth yes, yes I am very Goth honey. You had to pay because you looked at me like I was a freak.”
Now Richard smiled, a real smile, a real happy smile. He thought she would very soon make him feel the fool but he was going to tell the truth. The sort of truth he never told women.
“No, I was not staring at you like you were a freak. I was staring at you like you were too perfect to be real. Like you were salvation.”
Suddenly they were both laughing, like regular people.
Then she looked at him intently. “You meant that right, I mean more or less.”
“Yes, I mean it. I meant it exactly although I maybe could have said it better. I'm sure I could have said it better. But even if it sounded crazy. I meant it. Umm sorry.”
“Sorry? Why the hell are you sorry? What about?”
“Ummm I'm not really sorry. I think I thought I should say that.”
“OK, I will let it go this time. We can even have coffee as long as you don't say you're sorry again. Even if you are. OK? You have said sorry three times in 5 minutes. That is enough for at least a year. Got it?”
“Yes”
“And you pay.”
“Thank you.”
“For giving you a second chance?”
“No for letting me pay.”
“Yes, well that is about all you seem to be good for.” She paused. “And sharing a laugh.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much.”
“You're welcome.”
Richard realized they were walking out of the mall. “Hey didn't you want to go to Starbucks?”
“Fuck no. Do you have a car, do you have a name?”
“yes, I have a mini-van actually and my name is Richard.”
“K, Rich give me your keys and take me to your mini-van.” holding out her hand and continuing to walk into the parking lot.
Richard fumbled his keys out of his pocket and put them in her hand. His fingers touched her palm and lingered there. She took the keys, pulled her hand away, playing with and jingling the keys. Over her shoulder with a smile she snickered, “Cheap thrill eh Richie?”
“Huh? Oh umm sor... Sometimes just touching someone can be... wonderful. Do you have a name?”
She had stopped. “Yes, I do. The important question though at this time is where is your fucking mini-van?”
“Oh yeah my car. It's over that way,” he gestured to his left and further away from the mall.
She began walking in the general direction and he continued to follow about a half step behind. She looked at the keys, guessed the mini-van key and pressed the panic button as she walked on. The horn on the van began honking and the tail lights blinking. Now they walked directly to the screaming van. She stopped, still not silencing the noise.
“Isn't that noise supposed to get someone's attention? Like aren't the police or security or someone supposed to run over here and rescue me?”
“I guess. They go off all the time though.”
“And people ignore them and the car companies keep putting them on the cars. A Jaguar talked to me the other day. 'You are too close to the car, get away from the car.' Pissed me off. I threw a rock through the fucking driver side window. It just kept saying the same thing though.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
“Richard, no one comes. No one ever comes. Have you ever wanted to take a piss in a parking lot? This is your chance. As long as the fucking mini-van is honking and flashing its lights we can do whatever we want. We could fuck right here in the parking lot. No one will come.”
“God, I would really like to fuck you.” Richard thought he must be losing his mind as he heard himself telling the truth again.
“Take a piss Richard.” The Goth girl half sneered and half smiled.
So he did, he took his semi hard, semi terrified dick out and started to piss on a tire. He could feel his dick shrinking, so he stopped and put it away. No one came. They never do. So he went on to the passenger side of the van. The girl was getting in the driver side and unlocking his door. The alarm was still honking and flashing. The girl was smiling, a very big smile. Richard was happy and getting hard again. She started laughing while trying to get the key in and start the car.
The car started.
“Too bad they never come. I could have had you arrested and taken your car.” She was backing the car out now the alarm seeming to get a bit horse but still doing its mechanical duty.
She finally pressed the panic button out just before they pulled onto Monroe street. The alarm stopped.
Richard stared at the side of her head as she drove.
“Your name. ...please”
She smiled warmly but did not look at him. In a very even, pleasant tone, “my name is none of your damn business Richie. I am taking us to Rocket's to get coffee. Your assignment is to pay for the coffee and possibly a muffin for me. And one more thing. Think about it but don't answer until I have my coffee and I ask for the answer.”
“OK.” Richard had seen a place called Rocket's something-er-other near the private college in downtown Kalamazoo about 20 minutes from the mall he would guess.
“Would you like to know the question, or you gonna think of a generic answer to fit any question a perfect woman might ask you?”
“I would like to know the question.”
“What is salvation, Richard? What might be your salvation?”
Richard wanted to shout, YOU, you might be my salvation! But that was not the right answer, he knew that. She wanted more than that. Oh God he thought, don't let her be a Goth Jesus Freak. Please Jesus, not a Jesus Freak. If she were, then today would go from being possibly the best day of his life to another of the many worst in a matter of minutes.
He could feel a clammy sweat soaking his underwear as she drove on.
Chapter Second
Over Coffee
As they parked in front of Rocket’s Java Jolt, Richard began to gather his wits. He could not recall ever hearing about or being hassled by a Goth Jesus Freak. She probably just asked about his idea of salvation because it was a rather odd compliment. Although he was convinced he was not the only man who had ever sought salvation from a beautiful woman.
She strode from the car to the front door of Rocket’s, reached out to grab the handle, but pulled her hand back.
“Open the door for me.”
“Yes” Richard reached around her and swung the door open for her. The motion caused him to bend into almost a bow.
“Good boy” she said softly as she walked into the coffee shop.
Richard flushed slightly as he followed her. It sounded like something she would say to her dog if it did a trick for her. Worse, her condescending compliment made his heart leap. As the blood receded from his face, he thought I’m a good boy, her good boy, I like that.
“I’ll have a three stage café mocha and a double fudge chocolate muffin. Do you want anything, Richard?”
“Uh yes umm I’ll have a three stage mocha also, but no muffin. Thanks.”
“Twelve sixty-seven please.”
Richard already had his wallet in hand. He started to remove a twenty, thought again and pulled out the fifty he kept for emergency. The Goth girl smiled at this. This time Richard’s heart literally skipped a beat. It was as if she were about to pat him on the head. God if she actually touched me I could die happy he thought.
Again she accepted the change and put it in her pocket.
After receiving the coffees and a huge, rather gross, black mass of a muffin, they sat down at a table in one corner in two soft chairs.
“My name is Judy, well Judith actually. You will call me Jude.”
“Yes, Jude. Any connection to the Beatles song?”
“What Beatles song?”
“Hey Jude, I think that’s the name of the song. It’s the chorus anyway.”
“Fascinating but no.” She began eating the gooey pastry, breaking off pieces and occasionally licking the chocolate off her fingers. Actually it was more like she sucked the chocolate off her fingers. She put three in her mouth and cleaned them, then she would lick her thumb, occasionally making sounds that indicated a very sensual pleasure.
“Did you want me to try to explain what I said?” He inquired.
“No, I believe I said to only think about it till I ask. Besides my coffee is still too hot.”
“Too hot?”
“Yes, too hot to drink and possibly too hot to throw in your face if I don’t like your explanation. I don’t want the hassle of causing third degree burns. The management here would frown on that.”
“Oh.”
Jude smiled, “Besides I really wouldn’t want to cause you extreme pain. Just enough to let you know to bugger off. Of course you might like it if I threw coffee in your face.”
“I might?” Richard scrunched his forehead so she would know he was thinking. Then he laughed just a little. “Yes, if you liked doing it, then I think I would like it. The coffee should actually be very hot, it should hurt a lot. It’s probably already cooled off too much.”
Jude smiled again. Richard felt like he was becoming addicted to her smile. He could not think of anything he would not do to make her smile.
“So Richie, I think you may be ready to tell me why you said I looked like salvation”
“I’m, I’ll try. Well first like I said you look too good to be true. Beautiful of course but lots of women are beautiful.” He was struggling to form his thoughts into coherent sentence, then he went on plunging ahead pushing beyond what he had thought out, discarding any attempt to sensor himself. It made him feel a rush of excitement, fear, madness, exhilaration. “Sexy, kinky, strong, dangerous. The piercings, they make me think of sex and pain and blood. And Goth to me is all about death, worshipping death perhaps. Perhaps not, but certainly not shying from it. Not trying to deny it, pretend it's not there. That’s what I do. But in you I see strong female beauty, female not feminine, the power to use pain, and real blood flowing through you, your blood calling to mine.”
Richard gasped for breath. The fear had caught him. “I’m uhmm, I must sound crazy.” Jude had been listening to him intently, now she smiled and shook her head.
“No. Not crazy. A little weird for a guy your age. You gotta be about 50, right?” She did not stop for an answer but went on. “You were afraid to stop, afraid you couldn’t start again and maybe afraid you would never have another chance, at something… I’m not sure at what. I don’t think you really answered my question though. Salvation, remember? Mostly you told me why I gave you a hard-on.”
Richard felt his face start to go red, then stop. He was staring at her and she was staring at him and no one was laughing or smirking or needing to be embarrassed. He went on.
“Not really. Well the fact you are beautiful has a lot to do with my hard on. But really as far as explaining that I’d need to talk about your hair. Straight sexy thick hair that moves in sensual soft curves when she flips it back or shakes her head. And your body is nice not skinny which actually is my favorite but very nice, kind of athletic. And you have nice symmetrical features.” He was starting to laugh a little at himself now. He stopped.
Then he went on. “You may be right. I am terrified by death. But when I looked at you and thought of death, it was exciting, sexy, hot. The romantic poets of England called the moment of orgasm ‘the little death.’ As for salvation, it has to have something to do with sex, doesn’t it? Sex is something we all want even those of us who know that nothing matters. So I guess in you I saw sex and death. But not scary de” He stopped.
He went on, scrunching his forehead again. “I think I was close, I mean what I just said but I think I missed the mark by a little.”
“hmmmm, yeah probably but we can worry about that later.” she said between sips of coffee. “You said something early on that I keep thinking about. Blood, you mentioned blood several times.” She stopped, her eyes were locked on his.
Richard could feel his forehead beginning to sweat, he was afraid. And very excited.
Jude went on. “Tell me your first thought.
He thought he opened his mouth, but no words came out. He thought he might have made a sort of soft moaning sound. Their eyes were still locked like when kids have a staring contest except this was not a contest and if it had been the first person to be able to blink would be the winner. At least that was the way Richard felt. Then he spoke.
“My blood is your blood.”
“And my blood?”
“Your blood? Your blood is your blood.”
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back with a soft satisfied smile. She sucked chocolate off her fingers. She did not open her eyes when she spoke.
“Yes.”
She said it, in a way that could not be questioned.
Then she opened her eyes and went on.
“So, you want to fuck me. To be inside me. And your blood, do you understand how that fits in?”
“Yes. … No. … Maybe.”
She laughed. Stopped. He laughed a nervous laugh. She laughed some more.
Then she said, “Well I was going to ask you to pick one of the above and stick to it. But I think if you throw out the maybe you hit the nail on the head. Maybe is never right.”
She went on. “Richard, have you ever tasted blood? Human blood.”
“No, well I guess I’ve licked a cut so I guess sort of.”
“Richard, I want your blood. In me. It turns me on to think of sucking your blood, holding it in my mouth and swallowing it. I might even let you fuck me. Or maybe I would make a cut in your engorged penis suck you off and take the blood and cum into myself at the same time. I’ve never done that.”
Richard could not believe what he was hearing. But his heart was pounding, His dick was painfully hard and he was praying that she was not joking.
“Don’t worry, I won’t take enough of your blood to do any damage nor will I risk permanent damage to your manhood.”
“I’m not worried. You can take as much of my blood as you wish.” He was bright red and sweating again. Oh my God what am I saying? Who am I?
She stood, held out her hand. He stood and took her hand. She led him out the door to his mini-van. She left him by the passenger side and started around to the driver side.
“Wait”
She turned to face him.
“yes?”
“You’ve done this, something like this, before?”
“yes.”
“Who with?”
“My boyfriend.”
“Oh”
“But not the blood and cum cocktail. I sucked his blood while we fucked. It was good. I think this will be better. That was just sex. Very hot, very good sex. But still, mostly, just sex. This will be something different, something … profound.”
She went around to the driver side and they both got in.
She drove. He sat. They did not speak. She parked by an old house in an area referred to as the “student ghetto.” The house appeared to be divided into an upper and a lower flat. She unlocked one of the front doors and they climbed the stairs. She stopped by the door at the top of the stair and looked at Richard
“Sit.” She pointed to an old over-stuffed couch. He sat on one end.
Chapter Third
Blood Ritual
Jude went over to what appeared to be some sort of alter, she lit a number of candles. The candles were either black or red. Seven black and six red thought Richard for no particular reason. Except that seven is a lucky number and six, according to number theory, is a perfect number. And thirteen is a reasonable total or so it seemed to Richard in this moment. Richard felt an unusual, for him, sense of certainty even though he also thought he might be wrong.
As he was basking in this sense of certainty unconnected to reality, Jude returned to the coffee table; pulled it more into the center of the room and turned it so that one narrow end faced the couch and the other faced the alter. She then began pulling extensions to the table from each end. From the end closest to the alter it was just a basic extension. At the end closest the couch the extension split in two and swung out forming a thirty degree angle. She then swung two arms out from the sides of the table.
"Quite a table you have there." Richard said jokingly.
"It's not a table. I think you know that." Jude stated in an extremely level rather serious voice.
"I got it about a year ago. It has had precious little use." she sighed. "That must please you, true?"
"Yes I, yes it does but I'm not sure why."
"why, maybe, sorry. You use the most worthless words Richie boy. You will now undress and lie on the sacrificial bed. I'm sure you know where your head, arms and legs go."
"yes" Richard replied trying not to quiver or fumble with his buttons. Thankfully Jude went into another room, and he could hear her tossing off her boots. Richard arranged himself on the table or that sort of bed. He was very nervous and just a little chilled but very pleased to see that he had an extremely hard erection. My dick seems to have grown since I saw it last he mused.
When Jude reentered the room she was wearing only a shear black teddy with a pentagram of sparkling black beads sown into the front. In one hand she had a bottle of rubbing alcohal in the other a small old fashioned box of wooden match box. Her face did not betray any emotion. As she got closer to Richard, she smiled. She placed the index finger of the hand holding the match box to her lips to let him know not to speak.
"Well done. You have prepared yourself exactly as instructed. Now I am going to fasten you in place. I don't want a lot of movement and I do want total control... of you that is. If you don't want me to continue, you may say stop, get up, get dressed and take a cab home. Otherwise please no words unless it is time for you to speak." She was now kneeling next to him placing the items beneath the table.
The only part that Richard found confusing was the idea that he might have to decide when it was time to speak. He stayed completely still. As Jude placed a metal cuff on his left wrist, secured it with a metal pin, then did the same to the left foot, the right foot and finally his right hand Richard felt not the slightest desire to do anything but remain still and think of her pale beauty. He felt she had been transformed or had revealed herself to be a Gothic Goddess, his Goddess. It seemed an odd foolish thought for him to think but it made his heart skip a beat and he chose not to question this unRichard thought. When the last pin locked the cuff securing his right hand he felt a strange sense of calm as if his bonds while making him helpless also made him safe.
"Now listen carefully Richard" Jude said as she knelt beside his head. She was slipping a thin wire loosly around his neck and securing it to each side of the extension on which his head was resting. "You need to keep your head relatively still. You do have room to lift it enough to watch as I cut you. But any overly sudden jerking about could cause a serious injury."
She moved down to his side and held up the match box. She opened it and removed a safety razor blade. She unwrapped the blade.
"Don't worry it's new. And I'm going to sterilize it just to be on the safe side. I intend to cut you pretty deep. Oh not on your cock, under a nipple or perhaps the base of your neck. I really have a taste only for your blood today." She licked her lips seductively. She poured alcohol on the sharp edge of the razor. The alcohol felt cold spilling down onto his left nipple. She then took a match from somewhere and lit it, running the tip of the flame along the razors edge.
"My mother always used fire to sterilize needles to take out splinters. I'm doing it primarily to intensify the sensation. The sensation of pain, get your endorphins going, make your blood extra tasty."
"Yes" Richard said without thinking.
"Yes" said Jude with the most beautiful smile Richard had ever seen or even imagined.
Yes.
Still running the flame over the blade Jude stood, then moved to between Richard’s legs and knelt again, just as the match’s flame reached her fingers. She let it fall and leaned forward slowly bringing the razor to his right nipple, The burning sensation startled Richard and his body reacted his wrists jerked against the metal cuffs his head started to jerk forward but feeling the wire start to cut into his neck he stopped and rested his head back on the table.
“There there now” Jude murmured gently staring intently at Richards chest. He noticed then that she seemed to be humming or perhaps softly chanting to herself. Jude took her left hand and arranged her long jet black, red and purple streaked hair so that it was all on the left side as she moved the razor blade to about a half inch below his nipple. It burned nearly as much as before but all Richard thought about was her beautiful hair. He felt the razor scratch a semi circle below his nipple. The blade was not so hot now and the scratch was not at all painful. Richard relaxed thinking “this is not so bad, it’s almost too easy.” Then as she leaned into him he felt her pubic hairs press against his engorged penis.
He was thinking “Oh God please Please PLEASE” when he felt the razor cutting into him. He felt it break through his skin, into the muscle beneath, cutting into him along the scratch she had just drawn.
His eyes closed, he gasped, thought he was going to scream but didn’t. Instead Richard opened his eyes just in time to see his Goddess lower her face and take his nipple and the wound beneath it into her mouth and begin sucking his blood into her mouth hungrily, swallowing eagerly. All he could see now was the top of her head, her beautiful hair. Richard wondered if he was in pain, he wondered how much blood she would drink. He closed his eyes. He felt himself flowing into her. Entering her in a way he had never before entered a woman.
He felt lost partly in pain but mostly in bliss. Strange thoughts whirled through his mind. “Finally, Thank You, I’m dying, no I’m dead, no I’m finally alive.” Then he felt her body convulse around his throbbing dick and he experienced an orgasm that encompassed his entire body and burst inside her. Her, inside her, Richard gladly felt his own existence slipping away. Whatever was left of him existed inside her.
Then he felt a kiss on his cheek and a soft sigh in his ear. And he heard himself say “I love you.”
“Yes” she replied, “but will you die for me?”
“Yes.”
Then there was movement and he was separate and cold and happy and lost and confused.
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