The Afflicted

"How was it? Have you ever known anything like that?"

"God, no. I envy you, having that all the time."

"You will soon, darling. Never seeing the sun, this is the part that makes up for it."

Her hands had been running over his chest involuntarily, and Claude became very aware of her body pressing into his.

"Are you all right, Mother?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes," she pulled back from him, chuckling. "It's just my own longing. One day and I'm already hungry."

"Do you need anything, I mean..."

"No, dearest... I will have no need of your services. Your father will return to my bed in plenty of time. But thank you."

She returned to her room and Claude closed his door. Aimée's cries had been dwindling, and a few minutes later she reappeared in his room, running to him for a hungry embrace.

"Aimée!" echoed his father's voice from the hall, "What's wrong!"

"Excuse moi," said Aimée, rolling her eyes in frustration. She stepped back and deplaced again. Her voice came through the wall. "Why did you wake me?! I was almost asleep, you bastard! If you won't let me out, then at least have the decency to leave me alone!"

"I'm sorry!" shouted her father, angrily, returning to the storeroom and slamming the door.

The night had actually drifted by quickly, and there were less than two hours before sunrise. Claude whispered to Aimée through the wall.

"Aimée."

"Yes, Claude."

"I long for you so much, but I want to breathe the air for just a little while. Would you mind?"

"No, sweet one," she whispered to the wall. "Stretch your legs, regain your energy. You're going to need it."

The ocean was magnificent again, the moon setting now, and had just a touch of its roundness taken away. Claude was full of happiness and completeness, with only a small touch of longing because Aimée was not at his side. He reveled in the breeze at his face and simply watched there at the rail. His mother joined him, standing beside him and letting her arm brush against his. It was as though he could feel the Affliction reaching out to say hello to her, and hers was greeting his as well. With his, it was more greeting. He could sense more desire coming from her, but nothing overwhelming.

"Sometimes this is enough," she said softly. "We all go through times, when desire wanes. My first husband and I once went a full week with only touching, nothing sexual. For a mortal, that is nothing, for someone Afflicted it can be a lifetime. To us, that week was wonderful. We never made love, but we touched almost constantly. It happened accidentally. Neither one of us decided to abstain. It just seemed right at the time. It was beautiful. Of course, when we finally did make love, we fucked each other senseless, it was amazing."

"Mother!"

"What, does my language shock you? My boy, you will learn as you become a man that there are some things that only certain words can accurately describe. Many of those have to do with lovemaking."

They strolled casually on the very small deck for the next half hour. Frederique talked for the most part, telling him about her own childhood and her family in France.

"Mother," asked Claude, broaching a subject she never spoke of. "What happened to your first husband?"

Frederique paused, a pained expression on her face. Then she steeled herself and spoke. "There was a war among the Afflicted. We had a horrible man among us. He... he found a way to control people and bend them to his will. My mother and father, my brothers, and my husband Christophe were all lost in a horrible battle which took place in Paris. I assisted in winning that battle, but we had no idea how many of the enemy remained. So, I ran and I hid. That is what I've been doing ever since. Losing Francoise, it nearly killed me. I wanted to die for several days. Do you know what saved me?"

"What?"

"The memory of my family. Let me put it this way. When you spend time among mortals, they study each other closely. They will point to their son, and say 'He looks just like my father did at that age.' I think that is an important thing, to see your family live on through time. Among the Afflicted, we have that need satisfied in another way. Why wish to see your father reflected in your son's face, if your father will still be standing beside you two hundred years later? Yet, my family was gone. I had to honor them somehow, and so I ran. I wound up in Morocco. It was far enough away from the conflict that I knew I could find safety. The Lehris took me in. Sofia was even so kind as to lend me her husband to revive me. Then, I met your father. He was wealthy, handsome, wonderfully intelligent, and the Council approved of my taking him as a mate. Now I have him, and I have you and Aimée. I see my father in your eyes, and my brother in your chin - and elsewhere. Aimée has so much of my mother in her. I think I have honored their memories well, and today I can still see them thanks to my beautiful children."

Claude stood, contemplating his mother's words.

"Listen to me go on," said Frederique, brushing a few tears from her eyes. "The sun is coming; I have blood to draw; it is time we get on with things."

Claude returned to his room, and was greeted almost instantly by Aimée appearing. He closed the door quickly, but didn't have time to chastise her. She was already wrapped around him, kissing his face and neck eagerly, speaking between kisses.

"I missed you so much," she whispered. "All I could think about was you up there in the wind, how handsome you must look in the moonlight. I can even smell the wind in your hair, still. And the ocean! I kept thinking of the ocean and wishing we were swimming naked again. But what is this?"

She had reached down to feel his very large bulge through his breeches.

"Wait, Aimée..." Claude started... but she was not to be denied. She pulled down his breeches and lifted the simple cotton nightgown she was wearing.

"Now!" she whispered urgently.

Jumping upon him and wrapping her arms around his neck, Claude had no choice but to support her by putting his hands beneath her thighs. She lowered herself down onto his cock, purring quietly as he entered her.

"Oh, that's so good," she muttered in his ear. "So wonderful, so magnifique, don't stop -- promise me you'll never stop."

The sounds of knocking came from the hallway.

"Aimée," their father said. "It is time for your drink. I'm coming in."

"I'm afraid the choice isn't mine about stopping," he said.

"Damn," she said. "Be back soon."

She squinted in concentration, and Claude expected to feel her gone from his arms. However, he had a curious sense of nothingness followed by a dizzy feeling; yet Aimée was still clinging to him, he was still buried deep inside her.

Getting their bearings, they realized they both were now in Aimée's cabin.

"Oh my god," whispered Aimée as she jumped off of him. The door was just starting to open. Aimée jumped and slammed it shut.

"Get out of my sight!" she screamed. "I don't even want to see you father. You sicken me!"

"Now you listen to me," shouted Palo through the door. "I'm not going to..."

"Palo, darling." interrupted Frederique, "Do as she says. You are the one making her suffer. Just stand back a bit; I can contain her if needed. Just let me in and lock it behind me."

Claude pulled up his breeches and squeezed behind the door, praying he wouldn't be visible through the seam. Frederique slipped in quickly and shut the door, looking in surprise at Claude.

"Here you are, Aimée." she said, then mouthed "What happened?"

Claude gestured to himself, then Aimée, then his room. Blinking his eyes, he indicated what had happened.

"Take him back." whispered Frederique. "That's it," she said louder. "Drink it all."

Aimée reached to take Claude's hand, and winked herself out of the room. Yet, Claude remained. Aimée reappeared, panicked.

"How are you feeling dear?" asked Frederique.

"I'm fine," said Aimée, "but I still hate father."

"How did you do it before?" asked Frederique, softly.

"I...oh my goodness," whispered Aimée. "Claude, come here."

"What?" asked Claude.

"Lay down," she said softly.

Pushing him quickly to the floor, she pulled his pants down, revealing his still mostly-erect cock. She climbed atop him and, grabbed his shaft, and pulled him inside of her.

Frederique watched on, amused; then spoke loudly "I also have some brandy to help you sleep better, darling.

With a whoosh, Claude and Aimée were now on his bed, at which point she jumped off of him and blinked back into her own room.

Claude pulled his breeches back up and waited casually, listening to the muttered words in Aimée's room. Soon enough, his mother came knocking. His father did not accompany her, as he didn't need to unlock Claude's room.

"I told her to wait at least two hours," whispered Frederique. "I know how much you two want each other, but I beg you to be patient... and quiet for at least a little while. Your father is about to surrender, I can see it in his eyes. Let's not do anything to spoil that."

Frederique left and Claude stripped off his clothes, pacing about his room distractedly, longing for Aimée's presence and sensing her just beyond the wall.

He crossed to the woman's portrait, pushing the button which led to Aimée. If he couldn't hold her, he at least wanted to see her.

He gasped at what he saw. Aimée stood in the middle of the room, preparing herself...for him, he realized. She had piled her hair on her head in gentle tumbles. Around her neck, she wore a choker of green emeralds which complimented her light brown skin perfectly. At the moment, she wore nothing else, but she was trying different things on. At first, she donned bloomers and a white corset, which pushed up her breasts wonderfully. Next, she tried on a blue nightgown which didn't reveal much, but hugged her body in stunning ways. Still not satisfied, she stripped back down to nothing and donned a pair of riding boots, and a simple leather belt around her waist. When he saw her starting to remove the belt, he whispered loudly into the listening hole.

"Keep the boots."

Aimée looked around, then crossed to speak into the wall.

"What did you say?" she inquired.

"I said keep the boots. I liked the corset, but the boots and belt are my favorite."

"How did you..." she started to ask, then winked out and appeared in his room. He turned to her, smiling.

"Now you know my little secret," he said.

"How did you do that? Oh, let me see," she whispered, going up to the portrait.

"Amazing," she said. "How often have you watched me?"

"Not as often as I would have liked," he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Of course, until three days ago I wasn't all that interested in you. Not in that way."

"Do you want me to go back?" she whispered, pressing her ass against his cock. "So you can watch me some more?"

"No, I couldn't bear it," he said, wrapping his arms around her and cupping her breasts. "But mother asked us to wait."

"Her biggest concern was that we be quiet. I can be quiet, I don't know about you."

"I can be far more quiet than you, sister. I promise you that," whispered Claude into her ear.

"We'll see, put it in me while you show me this contraption.

They were both very new at this - but it took them surprisingly little time to find the right angle for him to enter her from behind. As he slid into her, she sighed and slid her arm around behind her head to caress his. The found a fascinating pattern, where they would work from a slow pace to a more rapid rhythm until they knew they would grow too noisy. At that point, they would cease all motion, and spend a few minutes looking into the viewer, exploring different areas round the ship.

"Poor father," said Aimée, pushing the button for the store room. Palo was pacing up and down the room in only a pair of underpants. His erection struggled against the fabric. Several times, they watched him walking to the door, turning away as his hand neared the doorknob.

A couple of sessions later, Aimée was peering through the viewer and smiled.

"But my, that first mate is handsome."

"You think so?" said Claude.

"Very. If you don't please me, I might just surprise him some night by appearing in his cabin like a desert sprit. I'll mount him, only to disappear as the sun approaches."

"Just like the Arabian Nights, eh?"

"Exactly."

"Are you saying I don't please you?" asked Claude, emphasizing his point with a deep thrust which forced a sign from Aimée.

"No" she said, reaching her hands behind her to guide his hips slowly. "I am not saying that. I could never say that."

She turned then, and they were pleased to find the heels on her boots placed her at just the right height for him to enter her standing.

"This is good," said Claude. "No squeaky bed to worry about. No dresser to rest against."

They stood like that for over half an hour, gazing into each other's eyes, daring each other to be quiet, and covering the other's mouth when that grew impossible. Claude finally surrendered and exploded inside of her, fighting a divine battle of self-control as it took every ounce of energy he had to keep from screaming with the joy of it.

"I wish you had climaxed also," said Claude as his last burst finished.

"I'm fine," she said softly, "Time for me, later."

"No, let me try."

He turned her away from him, pushing one hand downward, the other on her breast. His cum proved good lubrication and he used it well, rubbing his finger over her clit and exciting her even more by pinching her nipples.

"Oh Claude," she murmured, starting to climax. "Oh Claude," she said even louder, "Oh Clau...mmph"

He silenced her by moving his hand from her breast to her mouth, clamping it firmly shut as she screamed out enraptured.

"Who is more quiet?" he teased her when she was done.

"You are," she said, turning to kiss him passionately. "This only means I know how to enjoy myself more than you."

They turned now to the ship's painting. Claude stood directly behind her, loving the feel of his entire body against hers as he showed her the tricks of the viewer, including the bell of the bugle for listening. He kissed her neck and shoulders as she explored her way around the ship.

"Oh dear," said Aimée, "I said poor father, I should have said poor mother, too."

"What?" asked Claude. Aimée kept watching, but handed the listener to Claude. Putting it to his ear, he heard his mother's deep and quiet moans.

"My god she's beautiful," said Aimée, watching intently.

"You think so?" said Claude, cautiously.

She turned to him with a stern look.

"You must be joking. Can you honestly tell me you don't think our mother is beautiful?"

"No," confessed Claude. "She is stunning."

"If I end up half as beautiful as her, I will be thrilled," she said, admiringly.

"You're already to the halfway mark," said Claude, kissing her.

"Thank you," she said, turning back to the viewer. "Those seins. I hope I blossom that way, I'd love to have breasts like that. Come here, be a voyeur for a little while."

They switched places and Claude peaked through the viewer. Frederique was indeed putting on a show. Sitting at the edge of the bed, directly facing the mirror, she wore an open gown and was working herself with the wooden dildo. Her moans were low and earthy and her motions with the ancient tool were slow and methodical. Claude knew the look on her face and also knew her mindset. When one suffered like this, it was better to stay on the brink than deal with the wrath of the Affliction when it was disappointed by an orgasm sans partner.

"Just think," whispered Aimée in his ear. "You could have watched Mother and Father... "

She trailed off upon realizing Claude's secret. She turned him to face her. "Mon Dieu! You did watch them, didn't you?!"

"No." he said, blushing.

"You did!"

"Be quiet," he hushed, "and all right, yes, I did. I watched them. Just starting from a few days ago. I only found the viewer about the same time I came awake."

"That must have been so hard, truly, hard." she said, laughing. "Claude, did you ever touch yourself? Did you ever give yourself pleasure watching them?"

"Yes," he said, blushing even more."

"Ooh! Show me!"

"No," he said, adamantly.

"Please," she wheedled.

"No!" he whispered even louder.

"Yes. I order you. If you don't, I'm going to scream at the top of lungs. Father will discover I can deplace; we will ruin mother's plan; he will tie me up; you will be alone for the rest of the voyage. If that happens, you will be masturbating anyway, so you might as well do as I say."

Claude certainly couldn't bring up the argument that he would be able to call on the services of his mother if needed. Besides, Aimée was so adorable he couldn't help but submit to her wishes.

"As you wish," he said. He started to cross to his bed.

"No. Right here," insisted Aimée. "Stand here, give me a show. I want to see all of you."

She sat down on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest and looked up at him calmly.

"Aimée, come on." he said, "I would never..."

"Do it, or I scream."

Sighing, he reached down and started stroking his cock slowly. Aimée watched with interest at first, but when she detected he was becoming self-conscious, she put her hand to her mouth in a fake yawn.

"Boring. Do it right. Pretend I'm not here. I can tell you're holding back."

"You are a harsh taskmistress."

"Absolutely, now get to work."

Claude began to work his cock faster, more urgently.

Switching positions, Aimée moved to her knees. She wrapped her arm around his leg and kneeled there, her face inches away from his cock.

"That's better. I know you mean it now."

Feeling her touch also helped. He had been using shorter strokes, but he switched to longer motions. He breathed deeply, the pleasure overtaking him. Aimée leaned her head against his hip, her hand sliding up to caress his ass.

"Are you close, Claude?"

"Getting there."

"I can't wait to watch this. I've never seen it, the spray."

Just then, they heard a knock at their mother's door. Claude stopped and the two of them rushed to the viewer. Frederique was standing at her door, and opened it for Palo--who had arrived, hat-in-hand, so to speak. He looked gaunt and weak. Just the two days had taken a considerable toll on him. His Affliction was feeling lonely, desperate. It was clear in his face.

"Could this be it?" asked Aimée.

"I think so."

"Let's listen," she whispered.

"No, I think this should be between them." Claude said, seriously. It was odd, but even though he had watched his parents' sexual escapades, he felt uncomfortable eavesdropping on what was sure to be a very personal conversation. "Get back to your room; get changed; and keep your fingers crossed. As for your legs, don't cross them, keep them open, I hope to be there soon."

They kissed once more and Aimée disappeared. Claude grabbed a large nightshirt out of his drawer and pulled it over his head, doing his best to will his erection down.

Sooner than he expected, perhaps a quarter of an hour later, his mother knocked on his door. She stood in the doorway, radiant as ever. Palo stood behind her, sullen, but not too angry.

"Claude, would you follow us please?"

Claude nodded, and they moved to the next door. Palo unlocked Aimée's door and pushed it open. Aimée was sitting on her bed in the blue nightgown. She was brushing her hair innocently and the lovely vision stole Claude's heart away.

"Aimée, come here please," said Frederique. She took Claude by the hand, and took Aimée's in her other hand, joining them together. "Key." she said, gesturing to Palo who handed it to her, which she in turn handed to Aimée. "Your father and I had a good talk, and he has something to say."