Siblings with Benefits Pt. 02: Sins of the Past Ch. 03

But Nicole had taken it with no complaint even though it was the most vicious Abigail had been with her since she had begged for her to not leave. She wondered if Nicole had accepted her beating because she knew why she had followed Abigail and perhaps felt guilty herself for doing so.

Abigail looked down on the floor next to the bed where the long wooden dowel lay that she had beaten her angel with. Next to it was the wand she had used, making her scream for her release.

She returned her eyes to the sweet curves of Nicole's body. Her long well-toned legs and supple thighs. She loved being between those thighs and had been tonight. Even though she was in top mode, she had succumbed to the temptation of Nicole's sweet nectar and gone down on her.

She lingered on the puckered scar from a bullet on her hip then the one on her shoulder and knew of the reason behind her colorful dragon tattoo. It was a testament to how twisted she was that those scars aroused her, not that she enjoyed the fact Nicole had been hurt, but that it added to her aura of danger and demonstrated her strength and the fact she was not a soft woman, but a battle hardened survivor, much like herself.

Abigail blinked, realizing she was allowing herself to get lost in Nicole's body, a demonstration of that ever present lust, and turning away from the bed faced the wall across from it. Above the ornate armoire that housed her occult library along with vials of liquids and powders she used when practicing more traditional witchcraft.

Above it was a painting Megan had done for them as a gift, a portrait of Abigail in Nicole's embrace, staring lovingly in her eyes, a rare sweet smile on her face. Nicole was returning the love struck stare and it was titled 'Goddess Captured' Cheesy as it was, the work, like all of Megan's was incredible, the woman may be a whiny pain in her ass on occasions, but she was gifted.

Again she considered today's paintings. So much like Megan's that only she had known they weren't because she had the ability to feel the artist's aura in them and whereas Megan's was that of a sad tortured soul, this person was driven by a rage that was palpable.

But still, angry at Megan? At Mark who was obviously featured in the painting with the dog? Or was it a warning of sort? She doubted it, if a warning was the message why not come forward? She had already asked Megan to let her know when this mystery artist reached out to her, but Megan mistrusted her and might not, she would have to keep an eye on her.

Abigail frowned, she seemed to be clouded around the paintings. Her sense of things to come or being able to pinpoint certain people wasn't the best, but each time she focused on the thought of the paintings her mind became fuzzy.

It was the same cloud that came over her when she had meditated and reached out into the night for some hint of the identity of the cowardly cur dubbed the great beast. A sick sadist who tortured and killed women and whom, because he left some strange symbols on their party had the press believing he was some type of occultist.

A killer preying on women in her city. Sexually mutilating them, eviscerating them. The last fool who had tried to make a career of hurting women had been Jimmy Bellino a wanna be mobster who had kidnapped young girls with intent to sell them into sexual slavery. Abigail had killed his crew, crucified him to a wall and had let Balthazar devour his eyes before she tortured him for hours.

A similar fate awaited this poser of Ben and his incompetent police force couldn't find him. However, she also could not and that disturbed her. Someone of that sick and evil she should be able to feel.

Abigail had two mysteries that needed answering and now knew what to do; the obvious. Old Pearl the advisor and seer of the Lefay's for more years than seemed humanly possible was staying in a suite on the floor below.

One of her infrequent visits and a sign Abigail missed until now. When Old Pearl stopped in to 'set a spell' in her club, there was always a reason. Abigail was sure one or both of these questions was the purpose of her current time here.

Without looking behind her Abigail extended her hand and the black robe hanging from a hook on the door flew across the room to her. She slipped it on when Nicole spoke up behind her.

"Where are you going?"

Abigail turned to face, tying the short robe around her waist, "I thought you were sleeping."

"Abigail, I used to sleep sitting on a basement floor with an assault rifle across my lap in a city full of people who wanted me dead." Nicole chuckled, "Stealthy as you are, you're loud as hell to me."

She rolled over onto her side and Abigail's eyes immediately drifted to her breasts. She winced inwardly at bite marks around her nipples and the bruised flesh surrounding them. She had crossed the line again.

"So you were awake when I slipped out of bed to meditate?"

"Of course." Nicole sat up.

"You didn't speak to me then." Abigail regarded her, coolly, "Yet you do so now, why is that?"

"Because it was obvious where you were going." She shrugged, causing her battered breasts to bounce fetchingly.

"And obvious I was alone."

Nicole met her gaze, her ice blue eyes holding her dull black gaze.

"What does that mean?" She asked, lowering her eyes as she spoke, a dead giveaway she was right.

"Don't play coy, Nicole. You're concerned with where I am going and whom I will see."

"You generally don't go wandering around after we've come to bed." Nicole pointed out. "You also never leave the club at midnight we usually stay until closing."

"Which is why you followed me even though it's Seth's night off meaning you are in charge of the floor."

"Julian was there and there has been no serious trouble here in months." She grinned, "Not sense that crazy biker gang came in and tried to cause trouble." The grin turned wicked, "Me and Seth took on what? Ten of them? What a joke they were."

"Still no need to shirk your duty, lover or not, you're still head of security of the Flame as well as part manager."

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked really tired and it's not like you to not be there the entire time."

"You were concerned I didn't feel well?" She raised her eyebrows, "Didn't stop you from taking me to bed, did it?"

"I might have rethought that decision had I known the mood you were in." Nicole looked put off for the first time. "That was a little past our rules, my flower. That was the Abigail of old."

"Because you pissed me off!" She hissed, "And you're doing it again. Just admit it, Nicole."

Their eyes met once more and this time Nicole didn't look away.

"Fine, I wanted to make sure you weren't." She sighed, "Doing what you used to."

"Doing what I...you mean sinking my tongue into a pussy other than yours?" She demanded, "Licking, fingering, fucking another? Can you not even say it like an adult?"

"I don't like to say it." She shook her head, "I don't even like that I think it."

"Then why do you?" Abigail pressed, "What have I done in the last year that makes you think I have?"

"Nothing, but..."

"Yes nothing and you know that because you are on me like a second skin. You follow me around you check up on me on the rare occasions I manage to get a few minutes without you on top of me, I could not have possibly been with anyone other than you."

"True."

"Yes, I may bestow a couple of playful kisses upon a woman or two at the club, but that is for show, part of the allure to many women at the club, that they may catch my eye."

"Oh, yes the blessing from the queen of the night." Nicole rolled her eyes, "But yes, I let that go."

"You let that..." Abigail felt her anger rise and fought to control it. "You do not let me do anything."

"I let you beat me earlier." She lifted her tits for evidence.

"I am sorry for that." She reigned in her rage, "I had a weak moment, I do not like being doubted."

"I don't like doubting you."

"Then why do you?" Abigail spread her arms open, "Where have I wronged you of late for you to feel that way?"

"You haven't. It's just I was talking with Megan earlier and we talked about some things and our past came up and..." She sighed, "You know she doesn't trust you."

"She doesn't have to, only you do."

"She brought up how cruel you were to me and tonight you were." Nicole frowned, "Not a good coincidence."

"I see. So the woe is me drama queen has naught better to do than plant seeds of doubt in your mind? You know she only sees me in an ill light."

"And I defend you, Abigail, I do. But sometimes Megan has a point and..."

"Oh, by the blood of Asmodeous! I swear I am in that stupid Brady Bunch episode!" Abigail tiled her head from side to side as she called out, "Megan, Megan, Megan!"

Nicole grinned, "You watched the Brady..."

"I am not joking!" She snapped, "Perhaps I am the one who should be concerned because your favorite little fantasy seems to try to poison you against me any chance she can."

"Hey, I've never done anything inappropriate with her." Nicole's voice rose and her eyes hardened. "I am not the one with fidelity issues, and she's married to a man I love like a brother."

"Don't like being questioned do you?" Abigail smiled unpleasantly. "But I do know you have done nothing because I trust you and you need to extend that fucking courtesy to me."

"I've never given you reason to doubt, you gave me years of reasons."

"But the only time you doubt me now is when the princess of self-pity decides to try to make other's lives as unhappy as hers used to be."

"Abigail, do you truly dislike Megan?" Nicole asked softly.

"No, but I tire of her whining about her past when her present is exceptional. I know she hates me, I know she thinks it was me that almost caused Mark to die and I know she does not like my influence on him. I have nothing against her, but her bitterness towards me and her trying to turn my love against me."

Nicole smiled, "I love hearing you say I'm your love."

"You are, Nicole! How can you doubt that?"

Abigail approached the bed and sat on the edge of it. "Nicole, I begged for you, I cried for you, I groveled at your very feet and let you know me as know other person ever has except Lorena and it was you who showed me how I was treating you the way my sick whore of a mother turned lover treated me."

"I'm sorry, Abigail." Nicole put her hand on her shoulder, "I don't want to fight with you."

"Nicole if you have a question about my faithfulness you have the right to ask me." Abigail, put her hand over hers,

"But never question me because of her. She has not the right to judge me. Her past was spent hurting everyone who cared for her and doing disgusting degrading things. But that's the past and we don't hold her to it, I should not be held to mine."

"Understood." Nicole kissed her cheek. "And I know it sounds bad, but I rather you get angry. It's when you're stoic and in that apathetic mode I worry. Emotions show you care."

"I do care, even for my talented detractor for whom I am going to speak to someone about. I am troubled by those paintings and need answers I cannot get on my own."

"Oh, right, the oracle thing?" Nicole couldn't hide her mocking tone.

"All you have seen, yet you doubt?" Abigail shook her head, "It's sad you believe in nothing, but this world we live in."

"Wow, from a devil worshipper that's pretty funny." Nicole told her.

"But I believe in my father and he cares and protects me, unlike the Christian god the lemmings pray to even as they are slaughtered in his name."

"Okay, again I'm sorry I doubt you."

She put her hand under the short robe and caressed Abigail's inner thigh. "Maybe I can make it up to you?"

"No, I must go. Even as Megan tries to taint you I go to seek knowledge to protect her. But," She turned to face Nicole, "Allow me to make something up to you."

She placed her hands on Nicole's breasts and rubbed her thumbs over her bruised bitten flesh. Nicole winced, but her nipples stiffened and her breathing became heavy as Abigail fondled her breasts.

"Kiss me," Abigail whispered, parting her full lips that still sported the evenings black lipstick.

Nicole leaned in and pressed her lips to hers. They sighed softly as their soft lips and tongues lightly caressed each other. Nicole moaned when Abigail squeezed her breasts harder and focused on the image of the bruises in her mind.

Nicole gasped when a wave of heat flowed through her body and a feeling like an electric shock when through her nipples. She jerked back and looked down at her breasts.

The bite marks and bruises were gone. Her flesh was as soft and smooth as it had been before Abigail's all-out attack on her body.

"Oh ye of little faith." Abigail winked, then gave her a quick kiss.

"How?" Nicole whispered, rubbing her now flawless skin.

"Faith." Abigail told her, "And if you cannot have faith in the poser god or the true king, then have faith in me."

"I only ask you be faithful to me, Abigail." Nicole said quietly. "You and I aren't like other people. We've killed and will kill again. We're the wolves among the sheep and I love that nasty side of you and that you love it in me. The only way you can hurt me is to break your vow to me."

"I ask that you allow me to be faithful to you." Abigail answered even as she recalled her thoughts from minutes ago, that she was struggling to do so. "I have earned your trust and will continue to do so." Or at least try.

She rose from the bed, "Now if you'll excuse me, I must pay a visit to someone and yes, Nicole she is a woman."

She looked down and smiled, "But one that could only be called hot if she were to slather herself in Ben gay."

"Oh," Nicole nodded, "Pearl. Abigail its one am, she's pretty old, you think she's up?"

Abigail gently caressed her cheek, then turning made her way out of the bedroom "The second I knew I had to speak with her she awoke." She said over her shoulder.

Nicole lay back on the bed and sighed, "Of course she did."

*****

Abigail drifted slowly down the hallway of the top floor of the fame. When she reached a painting of Prince Asmodeous, resplendent in his three headed glory, she pushed it to the side and pushing on a soft spot in the wall, entered into a dark passageway when it swung back on its hidden hinges.

The door swung shut behind her leaving her in total darkness. Abigail raised her hands and a row of torches flared into life, lighting the way. She laughed at herself as she walked along the corridor which angled downwards.

She had no need to gesture, the flames responded to her will, but she did it at the club when she showed off and now found herself being theatrical even when alone. She walked slowly down the secret hallway, enjoying the musky scent of the dirt covering the cement.

At one time the building that would eventually become the flame had dealt in smuggling and other notorious trafficking. The floors had been covered with dirt to cover up the sound of people moving throughout the hidden passage between the outer and inner structure of the building.

The corridor passed through all six floors of the building and down into the secret sub cellar that housed both a chapel where she hosted black masses for her coven and a select few guests from around the world as well as a dungeon equipped to entertain people with tastes so extreme they could shame Desade himself.

Abigail stopped at one of the torches and pulled it down. A very modern metal door slid open and she slipped onto the fifth floor which housed several suites. A few were used by long time employees of the flame, ones she trusted enough to be this close to her when they wanted to stay the night, or several nights rather than go home.

The others served to entertain special guests that came to visit and stopping at one at the far end of the hall. She waited, when dealing with old Pearl, knocking was not necessary. No sooner had she reached the door it opened.

"Abigail." A young woman answered, "It's an honor." She pulled up the sides of her shirt and curtsied.

"Jasmine, what a nice surprise." Abigail embraced her thinking the surprise was pleasant in many ways.

Jasmine was a dark skinned beauty that had cavorted through her dreams many times over the years and looking at her now, there was a good chance she would tonight. Pearl's niece and guardian was wearing a white shirt and that was all.

Making it better-or worse-for Abigail was the shirt was as flimsy as gauze and clearly showed her small firm breasts with their gorgeous chocolate nipples in the center of her smooth mocha flesh.

The shirt barely went past her ass, showing off her legs, and the minimal white thong visible beneath. Abigail knew she was staring and raised her gaze to Jasmine's face. She was met with a sultry smile that told her that she was caught looking and that no offense was taken.

Jasmine's long dark hair was down and her large expressive brown eyes were currently returning Abigail's inspection, running up and down before lingering on the inner half of her breasts, which were visible in her loosely tied robe.

Her robe didn't cover much more than Jasmine's shirt, but she wasn't concerned with running into anyone at this level of the club at this time and even if she did, who cared? She had no issue being admired and desired.

"And may I say you are quite desirable, Abigail." Jasmine smiled.

"Dangerous thoughts when in the presence of a mind reader of your talents." Abigail grinned.

"Dangerous thoughts from a dangerous woman are..." Jasmine licked her lips, her pink flesh crossing her full lips and causing Abigail to think of her other lips and the pink flesh within them. "Hardly dangerous now are they?"

"For me they are." She sighed, "I take it Old Pearl is expecting me?"

"Woke up ten minutes ago, said you would be coming." Jasmine told her, "At an age when her gifts should be waning, she is still more powerful than any who remain of our family."

"You're getting there, Jasmine. You did Pearl proud during the blood war with the mafia and you've grown in power since then."

"Thank you," She curtsied again, this time pulling the shirt up over her hips flashing Abigail white lace between smooth dark thighs. "I've grown up in many ways since first we met."

"I agree you have turned into quite the apple in my garden, Jasmine."

"I like that analogy." Jasmine, winked, "If I recall the book of myths you cite, that apple was eventually eaten was it not?"

"Yes." Abigail nodded, then brushed past her, "But by the weaker sex, a man."

"Ouch." Jasmine put her hand over her heart, "On that note, I'll go back to my room and," She stared pointedly at Abigail's legs, "Keep myself busy."

Abigail did a good job of not forming too detailed of an image of Jasmine on her bed, legs spread; her dark fingers sliding through moist pink...

"There's my little Elvira." A rich voice spoke from the corner of the room, "I wondered how long it would take you to come."

Abigail turned to face the old woman who sat in a recliner by the window.

"No you didn't, you knew to the second when I would arrive."

She walked over to her appraising her oldest friend, in more ways than one, as she did. 'Old Pearl' lived up to her name. Her dark skin so wrinkled it looked like burnt parchment and her gray hair an ever thinning mass of frizz around her head.

She was thin to the point of emaciation, her long legs like sticks protruding from the simple old fashioned black housedress she wore. Her hands were a mass of wrinkles and the bumps and ridges of advanced arthritis that she stubbornly would not let Abigail or her family heal for her.

Her fingers were thin and tipped with long yellowish fingernails that made them look like talons. Her fingers were all bare except the ring finger which contained three simple silver wedding bands. One for each husband she had outlived in a life that a conservative estimate had at well over a hundred years.