Chapter 12 Daylan
twelve
Daylan
Again, I am left alone in this cabin.
Again, there is nothing I can do but linger here and wait for my captor to return.
Lazarus left moments ago, needing to get water to top up the container in his barrel and I lay on the bed, naked with just my robe covering the most sinful part of me. I am thankful he did not rip it entirely away, but being thankful to the devil for a tiny kindness also feels like a sin.
Sin seems to live within this cabin.
That is the only explanation I have for why I cannot stop being drawn to look at Lazarus.
For ten years I’ve lived in Bright Haven and I have never waged such a war as I have these past few days against my impure thoughts about him.
He is a bold creature with a wicked tongue, yet he commands my body to attention.
My cock to erection, and that is not even the full shame of it.
Shame is what I am considering now that I am on my own, the memory of Lazarus naked in front of me, an offer on his lips I cannot accept ringing in my ears.
Shame and sin.
I close my eyes and try to pray for mercy from these things that plague me, but I cannot find the words for it in this state.
I am hard beneath these blankets and despite my best efforts to ignore it, I cannot.
My hips press forward wantonly against the robe and my bound hands, finding friction there that sends more arousal spilling within me.
I cannot move my hands very much, but I can move my cock against them and I create a channel between them I can thrust up into, taking care to cover myself with my robe.
My hips work at a steady pace, arousal and pleasure cresting through me with every thrust upwards.
I bite my lip to keep from moaning, but I wish to let it loose as Lazarus did on the night of the storm.
His delighted cries echo in my memory, the sight of him slicking his hand over his cock while staring right at me and daring me to do the same coming to me unbidden.
“Oh, Lamb. I knew it.”
I snap my eyes open, shock rippling through me and alarm bells ringing in my head.
Everything I am doing grinds to a halt as Lazarus enters the cabin with a grin on his lips.
He drops a basket to the ground and kicks off his boots, turning to close and lock the door before eyeing me as if I have again become his prey.
I can’t even speak.
I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.
Lazarus makes his way over to where I lay on the bed, cock nestled in my hands. I carefully let go of myself, turning my head to the side as shame rings loudly in my head. The mattress dips, and he crawls onto the bed, lips curved into a wicked grin.
“Go away, devil,” I whisper, shame ringing in my ears.
“Seeking pleasure is not a sin,” he murmurs, laying down beside me on the bed. “If it’s done with those who agree to it.”
My heart beats hard in my chest, my erection not flagging at all with him nestled in beside me as he was last night.
Lucifer was God’s most beautiful angel, and in looking at Lazarus, I know why God wept when he fell.
Temptation torments me as I lie beside him, his heated body so close to mine I could reach out and touch.
“Finish, or I’ll finish for you,” he whispers, placing his lips beside my ear. “Would that make it easier? If the sin were mine, being that I am so fucking full of sin already?”
“No,” I say, but it wobbles out of me sounding uncertain.
Lazarus chuckles softly, then skates his hand down my hip, making me tremble. “Tell me no again, and I will stop.”
I do not say this word as he lifts the robe away from my cock, exposing me to his view.
I do not say it even as he touches the slit in the top of it, collecting a bead of liquid that rests there and bringing it to his lips. He licks it off and grins at me, then slicks his hand with saliva. I cry out as he wraps it around my cock, giving me a slow, long stroke.
“You have a beautiful cock,” he murmurs into my ear as he strokes me again. “You should be proud of it. Not hide it away.”
“It is a sin to look upon the Lamb in the flesh,” I moan, the words gasping out of me as my body goes electric. I strain as he pumps my cock, moaning into the silence of the cabin.
“May God smite me then, for I’m not stopping until you come.”
That may be sooner than he thinks. It has been a long while since I gave in to the pleasure he is wringing out of me, and I have never had it with someone else.
Already I can feel my release coming, my body tensing as his hand works on me, and that brings me to the realization that I have given in to my sin.
If Father were watching, he would whip me, and I would have earned it well.
My stomach pitches and rolls uncomfortably as I near release, and I look at Lazarus, begging him with my eyes to stop.
“Let go,” he murmurs wickedly. “Give me your pleasure. It is my sin to bear.”
“I can’t,” I cry out, as he strokes me harder, faster. My need to release rises, and I tense, pleasure rippling down my spine. My hips move of their own accord as I chase release, bucking into Lazarus’ hand while he moves on me.
I let out a strangled cry as I cum, spurting hot cum over his fist and over my robes. Trembling and shivering, tears slip from my eyes as my sin becomes reality, coating the flesh of the devil’s hand. Lazarus wipes my seed on my robe, and a strangled sob escapes my throat.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, looking to Heaven, hoping that God can hear me in this place so filled with evil. “Please forgive me for this sin.”
“Look at me,” Lazarus says, gripping my chin in his hands and forcing me to turn to him.
He gently runs his thumb over my lower lip, then reaches to wipe my tears away in a move far gentler than any touch he’s given me so far.
“Pleasure is only a sin if you use it as a weapon against others. Your body is not sin. Only the fucked up people at Bright Haven believe that. Learn to think for yourself a little bit.”
“I do.”
“No, dear Lamb. You don’t, but someday you might. If I don’t kill you first, that is.”
I kneel on the bed, hands folded in prayer, but my robe is gone.
Lazarus cut it off my wrists and took it away to burn it, removing all traces of my weakness from my view.
Instead, I wear a long shirt that he gave me from his supply barrel, and I am devoting myself to praying for mercy and forgiveness from God while he is out collecting water and hunting meat.
He has been gone for some time now, and I am thankful for it.
His presence is pressure, and I still do not know why he has taken me.
I’m sure he meant to kill me, but he seems to be having too much fun corrupting me instead.
Perhaps that is his game. When he has drawn me into sin so deep that I can never escape, he will murder me and send my soul to Hell.
I breathe a deep breath as I start my prayers anew, but the things he has said over these last few days come to me unbidden.
He seems to believe my faith is foolish, yet looks at me when I am praying as if he is in awe of me.
There are also clues hidden in his words that speak to dark days in Bright Haven’s past, and if I think too long on those, I fall into despair, wondering what happened there before I was brought to the compound.
I lose track of time in my thoughts, and the opening of the cabin door startles me.
Lazarus walks in, carrying a jug of fresh water and a satchel filled with something that looks heavy.
He drops it on the floor and grins at me, then stoops to open the top.
He pulls out a jar of raspberry preserves followed by a sack that looks all too familiar.
It is bread from the kitchens at Bright Haven, and my heart sinks at what other acts of devilry he has done unto the community this night.
“I paid a trip to your home,” he comments with a laugh. “It has been too long since I’ve been there, and I feared they’d forgotten me. I was mistaken, however. High alert these days, guards everywhere. Killed a couple of zombies too on my way.”
“Lazarus, why do you taunt Bright Haven so much? Can you not simply leave them alone?” I risk losing a meal for this question, but it’s a chance I will take.
“Not a chance. Not until they have all paid for what they have done to me.”
“But what have they done?”
Lazarus grins, moving to stand over me where I rest on the mattress. “You should ask what it is that I have done.”
I don’t think I want to know, but his wicked grin pushes me to ask anyway. “What?”
“I sent them a token of their precious Blessed Lamb,” he grins.
It is a slap in the face. A kick to the head.
I reel back as I consider what has become of my robe.
My sacred garments, soiled with red rain and remnants of my cum.
Shame erupts inside me, and despair follows as Lazarus pours a cup of water for himself and downs it in one gulp.
Bright Haven will know of my sin and will see my wickedness.
Father will know.
A sob escapes my throat, and I stifle it with my hands as Lazarus looks over to me, his wicked eyes gleaming.
“How could you?” I choke out. “How could you take my sin and put it on display for everyone I love to see? I hate you, Lazarus. I hate you with all that I am.”
“That’s too bad, Lambchop. I’m growing quite fond of you,” he comments, crawling onto the mattress beside me.
“I burned your robes as I said I would. I merely delivered a lock of your hair to Father’s door.
I cut it while you were sleeping off your post-orgasm haze. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”
“Oh,” I breathe, looking down into Lazarus’ face. I reach up to run my hand through my hair, finding the shortened chunk where he cut it. “Oh, I thought…”
“Yeah, I know you did. It’s okay. I’ve been accused of worse. Shut up now. I’m tired.”
He rolls over, facing away from me, and I sit alone in the silence.
Once again, he is unexpected, and I have leveled an accusation that was completely unfounded.
My head is all mixed up, and I don’t recognize who I am becoming in this place.
Lazarus snores softly into the night, and I lie on my side of the mattress, thinking about all the things I don’t know.