Seduction
Mary is drawn back into Isabella's arms
This story follows on from The Invitation and Invitation Accepted. Isabella has introduced Mary to something dark and sinister with a ravenous sexual appetite that is lurking in a 1920s English village.
Now Isabella is playing her own games of seduction.
The latest in my series of intensely erotic supernatural stories. Traditionally these stories draw a discreet veil across the scene when the erotic action starts - mine plunge right in. Being a little devilish myself, this story hints at what took place in the previous stories, Those stories and the latter part of this one are only available to paid subscribers.
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Seduction
Mary looked past Isabella as they sat together on a sofa in Isabella’s drawing room. Through the large windows, she could see the chapel ruins glowing orange in the setting sun. It had been a week since that night, now the stones looked so different in the evening light. She had tried to tell herself that it was just a dream, something her imagination had conjured up. But then there was that feeling inside her; it woke her in the night, made her squirm at the breakfast table, enticed her fingers to reach down there and feel the soft, pliable, wetness.
She had avoided Isabella until, as if drawn back to the heat of a flame, she had walked up the long drive to her house and knocked.
“Will you join us again this evening?” Isabella’s voice drew her back into the room.
Mary shook her head. “I cannot. I got so carried away last time… I shouldn’t have…”
“You enjoyed it?” Isabella shifted her position in her chair. Her indecently short dress rode up a little, exposing her stocking clad thigh.
Mary drank in the sight of Isabella’s long, elegant legs and felt a twinge in her core. “I did.” Images of the night in the chapel ruins swirled in her mind. The sensuous feel of the women’s fingers and then the contrasting aggression of the man’s thick shaft penetrating her, set up conflicting desires in her and turned the twinge into a tingle. She shook her head as if trying to dislodge the thoughts. “But it seems so…” she paused, “…so wrong. No, not wrong - naughty. Like playing truant at school. A release from all those rules for a few hours enjoyment.”
“What do you crave? Money, power, sex, men falling at your feet.” Isabella looked directly at her and, for a moment, Mary thought her eyes glowed. “He can give you all of those.”
Mary shook her head. “None of those really interest me. If I believed more in God, I would probably have become a nun. That sense of belonging, to be surrounded by sisters, must be so comforting.”
“No sex though,” Isabella said.
“I admit I had a thirst to find out what all the fuss was about.” Mary laughed. “Anyway, who knows what they get up to behind those convent walls?” Her face darkened into a frown. “Besides, I have been put off religion for life.”
“Why?” Isabella raised an eyebrow.
“Our new priest.” She looked at her hands, the fingers twisted together in her lap. “I went to him for some advice and he.” She paused. “He put his hand where no man should and offered to help me.” She shuddered at the thought and looked up at Isabella. “I know I have just been taken by some… thing; a man, demon, I’m not sure what, but that was my choice. Being groped by some grubby old pervert who is three times my age was not.”
She sat back and turned towards Isabella. “Maybe I should join a convent.”
Isabella laughed. “You are the last person who should be confined to a convent. All that energy, all that beauty hidden away beneath a habit.”
Mary smiled. “I have read books, some of the ones I am not supposed to read: some talked about men in opium dens. The cravings, that’s what it’s like. It took me to another place; somewhere I desperately want to go back to, even though I know it is wrong.”
“I know that my husband cannot take me there. I completely understand that he has needs and that his tastes are different from mine, but the church and our obnoxious vicar preach about damnation for what it considers a sin, and then looks away and ignores what my husband does, yet it would condemn me if I sought solace elsewhere.”
Isabella leaned forward and rested her hand on Mary’s knee. She felt the touch through the thin material of her dress, for a moment her mind wondered what the sensation of it against her skin would be like. She remembered the other evening in the ruins. Had one of those hands that glided over her body and then gently touched her most intimate folds been Isabella’s?
