The Newborn Ch. 05

"No, Benjamin! Stop!" Sabra cried out the words, her hands going to his hair and digging in, tugging him away from her. She pulled his head up so that she could look into his soft green eyes, seeing them hard and strange. He wasn't the man she'd married, something else was in there as well, something so malevolent that it sent chills of terror through her. "Who are you?" she demanded.

Ben smiled, his lips spreading and his tongue peeping out. "Who do you think I am, Sabra? Tell me that?"

The tenor of his voice had changed and she felt the evil that had taken him over like the chilled touch of tinfoil against her teeth. His head bent again while he waited for her answer and his mouth opened over her nipple, tugging it deep into his mouth, suckling hungrily as if he were trying to nurse from her.

"No!" she shouted again, but this time her hand came up and she struck out at whatever it was that had taken over her husband. "Don't touch me!"

Ben's head came up and he giggled, the sound creepy and evil. "You will come to me, Sabra. I don't know how they hid you for all these years but I've been searching for a newborn, not someone so fucking sexy as you." He growled as Sabra struck out at him again, reaching out for her hands. "Now, slow down, sweetheart. You don't want to hurt your new husband, do you?"

Sabra felt her fear increasing. Whoever had taken over Benjamin, he was cruel and he was strong. Her heart was racing and she did the only thing she could think of doing. Reaching around her neck, she lifted the triple crescent pendant and then pressed it down in the center of Benjamin's chest.

His scream was shrill, tortured and his body stiffened, smoke rising from the holy symbol on his chest. His hands tried to pull at hers, desperate to rid himself of the pain that she was giving him.

Moments later, he lay relaxed under her, his hands turning to take hers. He brought the crescents to his lips, kissing the symbol of their faith. "It's all right now," he said softly, kissing her hands and then her fingers. "It's me, Sabra. It's Benjamin."

She sobbed, her eyes closing before she relaxed against him, her arms going around his neck. "Who was that? Who was inside of you?"

Benjamin sat up, pulling her across his lap so he could hold her. He rocked her gently, slowly, his hands moving over her back. "It was the evil, Sabra. It was the thing that wants you."

Sabra lifted her head, seeing the triple crescent mark that had been burned into his chest. Tears slid down her cheeks. "I...I hurt you."

"You stopped him." He slipped his hands up, cupping her face. "You stopped him, Sabra. You don't understand yet. You are all that is important. You, Sabra. No one else."

"B-but..."

Benjamin kissed her gently. "No buts, my love. The prophesies have been written about you. You are the one that will save us all." His fingers stroked over her hair, his thumbs wiping over her cheeks to wipe away the tears. "I love you, Sabra."

She grabbed his dark brown curls, pulling his head down so that she could reach his lips. She kissed him with everything that was inside of her, hearing his moans. The fear was still inside of her but her love for him was stronger than the fear and she twisted her mouth, pushing her tongue into his mouth. "Love me," she moaned.

His hands were on her slender waist and he tugged her even closer. "I do," he said against her mouth. "I always will." His hands were gentle as they lifted her enough to pull free the garter belt and then tug off her last bit of clothing, the tiny purple thong. His hand brushed against the softness of her mons, trailing his fingers through the soft hairs until he found her slit.

She was wet, slick against his finger and he gathered that moistness, using it to dampen her clit. His finger flicked against that tender bud and he felt Sabra squirm on his lap, unused to any touch but her own. With him, the touch was more sensual, seductively sweet and she whimpered beneath his lips, begging for more.

"Do you want me?" he growled, barely able to get the four words out. Remembering that she was a virgin and his wife was all that went through his mind and he ached to take her, to thrust through that small membrane and make her his woman.

"Y-yes," she cried. "I-I want you." Her hands dug into his hair and she held on tight as his lips moved down the soft column of her neck. His teeth were sharp as they nipped at her soft flesh and she couldn't stop the moan that tore from her lips. Her body arched against him, giving him every access he could want. And he took advantage of it, his lips moving from her throat to her shoulder.

His hands filled with her breasts, squeezing the soft but firm flesh. Her nipples were hard, pressing insistently into his palms and he slid his hands down until he took her nipples between his fingers. "I've dreamt about you, when I had to leave you. You haunted my dreams, Sabra."

"Tell me," she moaned, arching her back when he twisted her nipples. Her breath became raspy and quick and little whimpers came from her mouth.

"You haunted me, constantly teasing me with this body. You'd kneel above me and rub your sweet, little pussy just out of my reach. I wanted you so badly, Sabra. It was my own little piece of heaven and hell to watch what you were doing to yourself."

Sabra used his chest to brace herself, kneeling over him, only closer than she did in his dreams. He could smell the sweetness of her arousal, see as her tightly furled pussy began to swell. When she slipped a finger through her virginal slit, Ben felt as if his heart would stop beating.

"God, baby. Yes, just like that." He grabbed her hips, sliding down until he could lift his head and let his tongue press against her pussy, pushing into her slit to taste her arousal. He heard her moan and then felt her hips begin to move. She couldn't hold still, not with the things he was doing with his mouth.

His nose pressed against her clit as he licked her from one hole to the other. It was hard, begging for his mouth, for his teeth, her scent driving him wild. His mouth was hot on her, suckling her clit, his teeth nibbling at that sweet treat. He felt her shaking against him and smiled, knowing that she was close, wanting to push her past and into that dark chasm of bliss. He smiled darkly as he heard her cry out his name and felt her hands digging into his chest.

"Oh...Oh!" she cried. "Benjamin!" Her body shook and he knew she was feeling the shards of perfect pleasure of her first orgasm given at his hands.

"Yes," he smiled. He easily lifted her up, holding her against him as she collapsed in his arms.

"Oh, Ben. That was..." She sighed heavily...unable to finish the sentence.

"Not over with yet, Sweet Sabra." He watched as her eyes opened and she stared up at him in amazement.

"More?" The word was almost a whimper and it made his smile even wider. Learning the madness of making love with her was infinitely fascinating. His cock throbbed against the silky skin of her stomach. He needed her as much if not more than what he had earlier.

"Yes, love. Definitely more." He rolled, sliding on top of her soft body, her thighs parting almost naturally for him to slide between them. He could feel the steamy heat of her pussy against his cock and he gasped, wondering if he could keep himself from falling upon her like a starving wolf. His hips moved slowly, bathing his cock in the seeping juices of her cunt.

Sabra gasped, her hands coming up to grasp the hard strength of his upper arms. Her face was a study of concentration with just a hint of fear.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered against her ear.

She smiled. His concern was sweet, the heat of his breath against her ear sent shivers down her spine. She could smell herself on him and it sent a shiver of pleasure. "I'm not afraid, Ben," she moaned. "I know you won't hurt me too much and then what we'll do together will be mind blowing." Her foot slid up the back of his leg then trapped his hips with her thighs. "I want you too." She ducked her head, kissing the marks she'd burned into his chest, the triple crescent branded there for the rest of his life. It would always remind her of this night, the night she became his in body. She'd been his in every other way since the first time she realized how wonderful he was.

"You're sure?" he asked even as the head of his cock seemed to wedge against the tiny opening of her pussy

Sabra moaned. "Yes, baby. Fuck me."

Her use of that crass word drove him over the edge. His mouth covered hers, his hands moving to hold onto her hips and he thrust against her, feeling her stiffen under him. Her nails dug into his arms, leaving tiny half moon welts.

She was tight around him, that tiny membrane popping easily. The urge to drive himself into her was fierce, the desire to claim her as his and only his almost outweighing his need for her safety. He panted, trying to calm those urges, to give her time to get used to being a woman, his woman.

"Are you all right?" he groaned, holding himself above her. They were only joined by a few inches of his cock.

She moved under him as the pain slowly subsided and the beauty of his claiming superseded everything else. He was inside of her, feeling impossibly huge, incredibly hard. Tiny flickers of heat began to pulse deep inside of her and she wanted more. "Yes. Oh," she whimpered, trying to force him to move inside of her, against her. "Ben..."

He moved his hips cautiously, pulling back just the tiniest amount, the friction between them making his heart race and his body tighten. "You feel amazing."

"Then feel more of me," she demanded, thrusting her hips up to meet his.

Ben tried to be gentle, he tried to take it slow but she was urging him on, her hands roaming over his body, her hips undulating under his with a siren's grace. She was driving him mad, a blissful, sensual insanity that he never wanted to give up. Her little moans and whimpers were the sexiest thing he'd ever heard and his body plundered hers, driving deeper, ever deeper of her heat.

His eyes were closed, only to fly open when she pushed at his chest. "Sabra? What...?"

"Roll over," she demanded. She held onto him as he did as she bid, sitting up across his loins, feeling him slide even deeper in this position. Her hands rested on his chest and she watched his eyes as he took in the way she looked. His hands went to her hips and he urged her to move, grinding her soft little cunt against him.

His growl was almost feral and she moved over him, fucking him. "Is...Is this okay?"

"Any more okay and I'd be dead." The words were growled against her lips as he tugged her down. "My wild little Sabra."

"Yes, yours," she groaned. She could feel the upcoming orgasm just beyond her reach and she sat back up, taking hold of his hands and twining her fingers with his. "Yours," she repeated almost helplessly, her movements quickening. She was chaotic against him, thrusting harder and harder down at him, her cries growing and turning into whimpers.

He dug his heels into the mattress, his hips stroking against her with desperate need. The back of his hand, still twined with hers, slid up the front of her body, capturing her nipple against his fingers. He pinched it, just hard enough to make her gasp.

The first trembling tingles of bliss surged through him and he pushed his head into the pillow, arching against her. She cried out and he could feel the muscles of her pussy tighten around him then flutter, drawing him every deeper. His seed surged through the hard flesh of his cock, filling her spasming womb with the heat of him.

His eyes focused upon her face, her bliss easily seen upon her delicate features. She seemed frozen in time, lost in the ecstasy they'd found together. Then she crumbled, her body too heavy to hold up, her head resting against the hollow in the curve of his shoulder. Sweat held them together like glue and his hands moved over her back, stroking, caressing her.

"Are you okay?" he whispered against her hair.

"Mmm," she moaned, nodding her head. "You?"

"Any more okay and I'd be dead." He chuckled huskily, reaching down to straighten out her legs so that she rested against him completely, her weight a pleasant anchor. "You're pretty wonderful."

Sabra kissed his shoulder and then snuggled even closer to him. "Can we stay right here forever?"

Ben pushed her hair away from her face, staring down into her half closed eyes. "It might get a bit smelly after the first couple of days."

She sighed. "Always the realist."

"But I love you," he added, seeing the smile that crossed her face.

"I will never grow tired of hearing you tell me that."

"Good. I'll never grow tired of saying it."

* * * * Across town, Deanna sat inside her bedroom, hearing the voices of her parents as they fought. Her mother had come home drunk again and it infuriated her father. There was the sound of a large bang, as if someone had dropped a heavy book onto the linoleum. Then she could hear her mother crying.

"You promised, never again you said," she screeched.

"Then quit your fucking drinking. Come home and be a decent parent to your daughter."

Ha! Deanna thought. As if he had the right to speak of decencies. He'd fucked her three ways to Sunday today. How was that being a decent parent to her?

"Deanna is fine," her mother shouted. Then there was the sound of running feet and a door slamming.

Her father's voice rumbled through the house. "Good! Stay gone!"

Deanna glanced at her door, hurrying over to slip the lock so that he couldn't get in without her knowing. She didn't trust him, not after what he'd put her through. She wasn't a hypocrite, she knew she'd begged him to fuck her and that she'd enjoyed what he'd done. But it was a sin and not one that she wanted to repeat.

The quiet after the fighting seemed absolute and she jumped when a sudden loud rapping came upon her door. "Deanna, open the door."

Even knowing he couldn't see her, she shook her head, determined to keep him out. When he slammed his fist against the door, she jumped, glancing back at the solid portal with fearful eyes.

"No," she shouted, suddenly finding her voice. "Stay away from me!"

"Oh baby, you don't want that and we both know it. Open the door."

Deanna glanced around the room, searching for a place to hide. Her body was beginning to act as if it had no time to listen to her mind. Her pussy was growing wet and she reached down, sliding her fingers over the damp slit beneath her panties. "No," she moaned, hating herself almost as much as she hated him.

"Deanna, do not make me break down this door. I will do it and you know I will. If I have to go to that extreme, you will be sorry."

"Leave me alone!"

She could hear the disappointment in his voice and watched as the door rattled against his bulk, shaking under the pressure of his shoulder. He hit it three times and then the frame cracked, a piece breaking off and flying across the room. Then Dean Schlock stood framed in the battered door frame. "Come here."

Deanna backed away. "No, Daddy. Please, it's wrong."

"It wasn't so wrong when you were begging me to fuck you." Dean strolled into the room, moving toward her as she searched frantically, looking for a weapon or a place to hide that he couldn't reach her. But it was no use. Within seconds, his hard hands grabbed her arms, dragging her over to her bed before sinking down on the mattress and yanking her down across his lap.

Deanna struggled but she was no match for his strength. He held her across his lap easily, one hand tugging at the hem of the night shirt she was wearing. It was pulled easily up and over the rounded hips of his daughter, leaving her slender hips little covered by the tiny white cotton thong she'd put on after her shower.

Dean groaned at the sight, his hand rubbing over one pale cheek. "Only sluts wear panties like these," he growled. "Sluts and whores, Deanna, which one are you?"

"Neither, Daddy. Please don't do this." She struggled even harder, his wide hand covering part of her ass, his thick fingers pushing between her thighs.

"Oh you're one or the other, Deanna." He moaned as he felt the wetness that dampened her pussy. "Now you've only to decide if you want paid or if you want to do it for free."

She grabbed his hand, desperately trying to pull it free from her flesh, to push him off of her struggling body. "I was a virgin, Daddy! I've only been with you!"

"Then it won't hurt you to be with me again!" Dean smiled at his pretty daughter, his thick middle finger flicking at the hard bud of her clit. She was hot and she wanted him, but the crap his wife had force fed her, about how good girls didn't want sex, well it had fucked her up. He held her still with the hand that plucked lazily at her clit, using his other hand to free his straining cock from the pants he'd worn to work.

Deanna strained even harder to be away, breathing a huge sigh of relief when she heard the buzzer on the door sound. Dean's head came up and he growled his disgust. "You stay here. I'll get rid of whoever it is and then I'll be back. If I find you gone and have to go looking for you...well let's just say you don't want to be on the other side of that whipping. Got me?"

She nodded, cringing as he pushed that one thick finger into her cunt, groaning as the tight flesh clung to his skin. "Good girl," he said, patting his hand over her lightly clad pussy. "Get undressed and into my bed, Deanna. I'll be back in a minute."

She lay where he left her, shock making it almost impossible for her to move. She'd never thought her father would want to do this with her again, even after what he'd said to her. Now, with her mother gone, she had no defense against him. A sob shook her shoulder and she got up slowly, staring around her room, trying to figure out what she should do.

Her eyes widened when she heard her father begin to come back up the stairs. She hadn't moved and she was shaking badly. Men's voice came to her from the hallway and she saw her father hesitate as he saw her still in her room. "Oh, Deanna. I completely forgot that Mr. Redman and Mr. Peters were coming over tonight."

He stepped in the room, followed by the two men. For only a moment she wondered if she were saved. Her father wouldn't force her in front of someone else, he just wouldn't. But then she saw the look in their eyes and watched as Mr. Redman, a man she'd always considered attractive, reach down and adjust his cock that was tenting out the front of his dress pants.

"Your father told us about your actions earlier today, Deanna. He's hoping that we can put a bit of the "fear of God" back into you." He squeezed his hand around the wide ridge in the front of his pants and stepped toward her.

They stalked her, surrounding her and pushing her back against the wall, her eyes huge as hands reached out to touch and stroke her skin. "No," she whispered, struggling against the hands that were stripping off her nightshirt, coming out to squeeze and play with her sensitive breasts. "Please don't."

Their laughter held a hint of evil and she knew escape was beyond her reach, closing her eyes as Mr. Peters pushed her down to her knees and the head of his thick cock touched the softness of her lips. She opened her mouth, cringing at the taste as he pushed in against her tongue. Behind the three men, she heard the sound of laughter. It was evil in its purest form and tears slipped down her cheeks as she felt the first surge of pleasure from their rough hands and hard cocks.

She was damned and there was no escape.