The Sin Eaters Ch. 02

I did not answer. It was my pride, and pride was a great barrier to enlightenment. I needed...

"Oh for Pete's fucking sake stop with the enlightenment bullshit. I have crawled all over this shitty orb for longer than you can begin to imagine. There is no enlightenment, no Nirvana. You can learn things, sure. You can grow powerful, sure. But none of that brings enlightenment. Be proud. I fucking hate, hate brown nosers. Go ahead and fight me. You can't win but that doesn't mean you have to grovel, bitch."

No? So be it. It may be that I remained as open to him as the world on a bright dawn but I let the curtain fall over the door of the little hut beneath the giant trees in which I sat. When his mouth again sought mine I offered it.

Having leapt into the abyss I savored the sensation of soaring. I loved the feel of his lips on mine but I hungered for more. I kissed his neck and he let me. I kissed the strong arches of his collar bones and he let me. I kissed my way down the center of his chest and he let me. When I kissed my way to his right nipple, his hand found the back of my head.

"Fuck yeah, newbie, that's right."

I tugged at his nipple, flicking it with my tongue as his fingers clenched in my hair. I bit him, but not hard enough to draw blood. I feared losing his trust should he imagine I was trying to taste his power. I buried my nose in the soft hair under his arm. Like me, he had no musk no scent. A pang of regret lanced my thoughts. I had loved the clean scent of my wife. It saddened me I would never know what my master smelled like.

"Here," he whispered.

My mind filled with a vision of Scooter lying on his bed. It was a bed fit for a harem. He was naked. His fist pounded away at his cock. His head was turned, his nose as close to his armpit as he could manage. He inhaled. He inhaled and I smelled his scent. It was overwhelming. He smelled of strange worlds and foods but under it was his own scent. I clutched at him them, rubbing my face into his armpit and enjoying the sound of his sighs.

I fell to my knees. I worshipped but I didn't grovel. I begged him to supply my mind with its desire as I pressed my face into the dark curls above his cock. I have heard it said that some yoga masters can suck their own cocks, though to do such a thing would be a sacrilege. Scooter had not been a yoga master but he had played with his cock and balls and sniffed his fingers. He had fingered below his ball and teased his asshole and absorbed the smell from his fingers. He shared those memories with me as I took his cock into my mouth without hesitation.

To me it seemed an enormous thing, his cock. I had never seen a man of such endowment in my travels.

"In my world, I was considered well hung, newbie, but I was far from huge."

No matter, I recall the vision of Scooter taking the foreign man's cock into his throat. He had thought the words "deep throat" as he had done so. I understood that. I search the power of my master's blood. I knew he hid his memories from me but I searched nonetheless. Whether I found such knowledge or my own efforts were reward was not relevant. What was relevant was I had Scooter's cock deep in my mouth and throat. My nose was tickled by his man hair. I began to move my mouth over his cock as I had seen him do in his memory. I tugged at his foreskin with my lips. I bathed the crown of his manhood with my tongue. I stroked him with both hands as I bobbed my mouth over the head.

When his hands found my head, I did not object. I no longer wished to fight. As his cock slid in and out of my mouth, I fondled his balls, felt then roil and contract in my palm. When he filled my mouth, I did not gag or sputter. I swallowed. He pushed deep into my throat, to the point swallowing was not necessary. He filled my gullet with his hot cum, his blood and once again I felt heat flood my body.

I rested there on my knees, mouth full of his cock, body feasting on his essence. I was content.

"Hello Cass, what the fuck up, girl?"

As I heard my master's voice I turned in surprised. His cock rested against my cheek. My maker stood atop the rock that hid the entrance to Scooter's lair. I had been too near death to appreciate her beauty when she had made me. My body recalled the taste of her sex and my linga grew so tight it hurt.

"What's up? Not your IQ you dumb shit. How much have you fed him? You cum in his mouth? Have you lost your fucking mind, Zachary Taylor?"

She flew to stand in front of him. As her surprisingly dainty feet touched the cold stone, she swung the back of her hand at my head.

No thought guided me. I found myself behind her, one hand pulling her head back, the other held as a claw around her throat. She attempted to spin away, reached back and clawed at my face. I found myself atop her. She was face down in the dirt. I held both wrists, pulling her arms back and above her body. I felt, and heard, the long bone in her left arm snap. She stifled a cry.

I jumped back, appalled. I had had not thought to hurt her.

My hands shook as she rose, her face a mixture of anger, fear, and shock.

I fell to the ground and touched my forehead to her foot.

"Forgive me. I have no wish to harm or offend you."

"Oh goddamn mother fucking hell! Knock off the fucking groveling shit, asshole! You are fucking killing me here Smalls, fucking killing me."

Scooter reached down, grabbed the back of my neck and with no appreciable effort jerked me to my feet.

"I hurt her. I hurt the one who kept me from dying."

"I didn't keep you from dying, dipshit. You're as dead as the rest of us. And you didn't fucking hurt me. See."

She was waving her arm around. She was lying. I had heard her pain. I had felt her pain, not as pain but as an awareness of what was happening in her body. She knew this. What I knew was that she needed this subterfuge.

"Nonetheless, I crave your pardon Mistress Cassie."

Scooter howled and the rocks trembled.

"Mistress Cassie? Holy fucking shit. Now I really truly have heard every fucking thing under the sun."

"Fuck you ZT," Cassie hissed but she smiled as she said it.