The Black Onyx Pact (43 page)

«Why you didn't come to sleep in my bed then? Why you didn't let her sleep in your bed alone?»
Obelix clenches his jaw but doesn't answer. Asterix takes a deep breath then throws a mug in the sink, breaking it.
The boy at the table petrifies and Obelix flares his nostrils.
«That was my favorite mug!»
«That was the girl I'm in love with!» replies Asterix hitting the edge of the marble sink with his fists. «Please, tell me you did have sex! Please, tell me you did have sex! Please, tell me you did have sex!»
The boy at the table looks at Obelix, waiting to hear what he has to say.
«I'm sorry, Jean, we didn't have sex, we just slept.»
Asterix covers his eyes with the hands, trying to control the pain he feels deep inside.
«No
—
Why? Why, bastard?! Why?!»
«Jean, listen
—
»
«If you had sex it would have been all much understandable and easier to me! I can understand and forgive a futile fuck! I can conceive the expression of a primordial instinct which cannot be contained! But I cannot conceive the tenderness between you two! It's me the one in love with her, Vincent!» yells Asterix.
«No, you are not the only one, okay?!» shouts Obelix.
Asterix stares at him in silence for a while. The boy at the table drinks noisily his milk looking first one then the other; he then gets up making Jules César jump on the table, and goes to put the mug in the sink. He looks at them again then goes to rummage in the fridge.
«You what? You are in love with her too?» asks Asterix in shock.
«Yes I am.»
«And since when?»
«Since long time.»
«And why you never mentioned it?»
«Because you were in love with her before me and I didn't want to put a risk our friendship for a woman.»
Asterix nods, then attacks him in a fit of anger. The two start to fight violently, punching each other in every part of their bodies. They fall on the floor without stopping to shout insults, to punch and bite. Jules César comes closer to the edge of the table and looks at them with curiosity, tilting his head to the side.
The boy in his underwear closes the fridge: he is holding in his mouth a bunch of white grapes and carries a plate with a big slice of pie in his hand. He looks at the boys fighting and leaps over them heading to the living room, where he sits comfortably on the couch switching the tv on. The phone rings and the boy swallows fast some grapes before answer it.
«Yes?», and a second later: «Oh, Saphir! How are you? Yes, it's me. Look, at the moment the two idiots are
—
», he looks at them rolling on the floor, «busy. You can leave the message to me, if you like.»
The boy listens attentively and raises his eyebrows, absolutely amazed by her words.
«Wow, what a news! I will report it to them. See you soon. Have a nice day.»
He hangs up and goes to the kitchen, he looks at them deciding if he should stop them or not, and then goes back to the couch: they need to clarify themselves first. As two real friends should do.
Ten minutes later the two are sitting on the kitchen floor staring at each other. Jules César is still looking at them from the table. Their breathe is heavy and their faces are black and blue, while their eyes express understanding now. They begin to laugh softly and after a while they laugh loudly and breathlessly.
The boy in his underwear enters the kitchen to place the plate on the table; then he rummages in the cupboard and takes a liquorice liquor, drinking just a sip. He does a satisfied sound and looks at them.
«Have you done, assholes? Good. It was Saphir at the phone, go get dressed, she wants to meet you in her office.»
The two friends get up, thinking what she might needs to tell them. The boy heads to the bathroom and they follow him. Once there, the boy gets naked and begins to prepare the bathtub for a nice warm relaxing bath.
«So, why Saphir wants to see us?» asks Asterix.
The boy takes a bottle of bath foam, opens it and smells it, making a disgusted expression.
«Why the hell do you buy this crap?»
«Because this is our home not yours. And by the way: when will you stop acting like it were?» asks Obelix.
The guy ignores him then takes another bottle and smells that too, this times he seems happy.
«I like this one. Buy it again.» says, pouring almost the whole bottle in the water.
«So?! Why Saphir wants to meet us?» asks Asterix again.
«Oh, nothing: the Black Onyx Pact requested to see you because they are thinking about having you as new members of the
sublime
.»
The two young men look at each other and startle, not knowing what to say, what to even think.
«B
—
but we haven't reached the Diamond yet! How can they choose us!» exclaims Obelix.
The boy looks at them.
«Yeah, that's not fair, is it? Why don't you go to complain about it with the
Order?
Oh come on, guys! You skipped a level, so what? If the
Order
decides that you are ready, it means that you really are. Those dudes may be scary but they are good fellows, and surely they know what they do. We all know it's rare, very rare, but it happened, so. You should be proud of yourselves.»
Them in the Black Onyx Pact? It is so unreal, so strange, and it's too good to be true!

~

Tarasque and Nymphe

Under the warm sun of the morning Nymphe runs in the wood of that private park. She is dressed in a diaphanous chiffon dress. A black metal collar is wrapped around her delicate neck and she is barefoot. She runs as fast as she can looking over her back relentlessly, and when she hears a horse's gallop getting closer her running becomes more intense, but the legs are now tired and that horse is so fast. The man is close. Closer...

Tarasque rides that beautiful bay horse with natural elegance. The man is dressed in medieval clothes: dark trousers tied with many laces to the sides, he is bare chested and on his forearms has black leather bracers. He arrives to the girl, takes his long whip and moves it on the air wrapping her waist and pulling. Nymphe falls on the ground with a cry as he dismounts from the horse and walks calmly to her. The girl sits straight looking at him with frightened eyes.

«No
—
», she moans.

Tarasque grabs her by the hair, pulling her head back.

«No? “No” what? You escaped from the prison, from your owner and from your punishment, and now that you are in my hands again you don't give the due respect to the man who owns you!»

He lets her go and she falls back shaking in fear. Her eyes are red because of the tears, her soft lips are parted as she pants incessantly. Tarasque looks intensively at her. Oh she is so good in acting like the scared slave, even if in her eyes he can see an intense excitement. He rolls the whip back up and the girl moves her trembling hand to the face as if she were afraid he was about to whip her. Seeing her so helpless causes him an instant erection. They stare into each other's eyes with a look appropriate to their role: he with an austere and angry gaze, her with a docile and frightened expression. With their eyes they speak, they communicate. With their eyes they understand what the other is feeling. He understand when she wants him to be more cruel or more indulgent. She understand when he wants her to obey or to rebel. The man crouches down in front of her and takes her chin in his hand, and then kisses her passionately. When he moves away from that divine mouth she is looking at him with respect, almost in awe, then licks her own lips to continue to enjoy his flavor. He gets up pulling her up too. He leads her near a big tree from which hangs a rope, and he ties her arms up to the rope ripping the dress with his hands, showing her bare back; then goes behind her and snaps the whip in the air. That dreadful sound makes her startle. He goes to hug her from behind, whispering in her ear:

«Are you ready, Nymphette?»

«Yes.» pants her with her eyes closed.

«I'll hurt, sweetie. You know that, right?»

«Oh yes, please! Please, whip me, Tarasque! I want to feel the weaves of pain lapping the pleasure.»

He moans gutturally hearing those words then bends over to kiss her neck, leaving her breathless.

«What you must say if you want me to stop, sweetie?»

She turns her face to look at him with his sweet hazel eyes. She wanders in those charming blue eyes, deep as the ocean and bright as the sky.

«I call the Windy City.»

He nods.

«Good girl.» he says, stroking her face with the handle of the whip. «Please, don't push your limits, Nymphette, you don't have to prove me anything, sweetie, okay?»

«Okay.»

He smiles gently. It's amazing how sensitive he can be and how cruel he can become a second later. He squeezes her large breast and goes back to his place behind her. Nymphe takes a deep breath and holds it, just as Tarasque taught her. The whiplash arrives implacable, violent, burning. She exhales strongly and pants, starting to feel the pleasure hugging the pain. It's a strange feeling, a wonderful feeling, a mystery. Another whiplash. One more. At regular intervals he hits her pale skin giving her the time she need to catch her breath again and to control the pain. Some red marks start to appear on her back and Tarasque licks his lips, feeling his member becoming harder. Seeing her sweetly and willingly suffering under his hand, seeing her accepting the pain he causes, watching her moaning in excitement after each whiplash, all of this gives him intense and unbelievable pleasure.

In the wood one can hear the wind blowing between the branches of the willow trees next to the pond, together with the sound of the whiplashes and groans of Nymphe.

When Tarasque sees her trembling and squirming, he stops and goes to caresses her pale skin marked by so many red marks. He hugs her from behind, wrapping her in a warm embrace, kissing her neck and licking her ear.

«You are such a good girl, sweetie. I'm proud of you.» he murmurs satisfied.

He reaches out and touches between her legs, finding it incredibly hot and wet.

«Mmmm, one day I want to try to make you reach the orgasm just whipping you.»

She licks her lips moaning in approval. Tarasque frees her from the ropes and she falls on her knees while he goes to stand in front of her lifting her chin with the rigid handle of the whip. She stares at him with red face. Gosh, she is so beautiful!

«What you should say, slave?» he asks in a firm voice, returning immediately in his role.

«Thank you, Master.» whispers her before to kiss the man's hand.

«Hmm, I see you remember how to show respect to the hand that whips you. Will you disobey me again?»

«Oh no, no, Master.»

«Will you run away from me again?»

«No, Master.»

«Will you be good in prison, ready to satisfy me when I come to see you?»

«Yes, Master.»

«What do you have to do when I enter the room?»

«I must fall on my knees and keep my mouth open, Master.»

«Why?»

«To show you that I am ready to satisfy you, Master.»

«Why?»

«Because I'm your slave, your sex toy, Master.»

«So you'll be good and obedient from now on?»

«Yes, Master.»

«Will you obey my very command without hesitation?»

«Yes, Master.»

He looks at her and grins. She is so much fun! He does love playing with her! And by the ecstatic look of the girl, she loves it too.

«Prove it.» he says, before to look down and spit some drops of saliva on his own boot. He looks at her. «Lick it up, slave.»
Nymphe gasps softly, feeling her nipples stiffen. She leans down at his feet keeping her head bent to one side so that he could see her, the she begins to lick his saliva off his shoe. Tarasque swallows trying to keep a straight face. But her pink tongue cleaning his boot it's a wonderful vision and gives him deep sensations. He looks at her bowed down before him with her bare back marked by the whiplashes, her dreamy eyes now half closed, and her reverent mouth licking him up.

«That's enough, get up.»

When she stands up he hooks the leash to her collar leading her to the abandoned stables nearby. The abandoned stables are old stables owned by the Club D and now used just for that kind of role-playing. They have been cleaned properly, the walls have been repainted and the floor completely redone.
They arrive at the entrance of the stables and they can smell a delicious aroma of dry straw and trees in bloom.

Tarasque pushes her into a cell with bright white walls and the floor covered with a lot of clean straw. She falls on the straw and looks at him with fear. He leaves, but returns soon after. She stares at him and he flares his nostrils then keeps still by the hair to slap her twice.

«Stupid slave! You are good at talking but when it comes to action you don't obey!» he scolds her.

«Forgive me, Master!» she implores him, understanding what she did wrong.

He holds her chin staring at her for a long time, making her glance down several times. Then he goes out of the room again. When he comes back, she immediately falls to her knees and opens her mouth. He smirks.