Black Rose Diaries Ep 02

My first year here has been anything but forgettable. Mostly because, on day one, I found out he was here too.

Mezza. Of all people.

The last person I ever expected to see again. The love of my life. And he was exactly as I left him: dark, devastatingly beautiful, carrying a quiet storm of pain and allure, dangerous in the way fire is--too bright, too intense, and impossible not to stare into. Yet I walked away...

From that very first day learning he was here he even acted as if he still wanted me. And fuck... he did. I didn't deserve him. Back at our old school, we were wildfire; friends, lovers, a force of nature wrapped in heat and hunger. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, couldn't stop exploring all the ways we fit together. The kind of connection that makes you lose sleep, lose track of where you end and they begin. A fated soul-deep kind of pairing. We were special.

But I panicked. I convinced myself what we had was fake, because we didn't clearly define what we were, he never spoke of bonding either. Most in our realm who find that level of connection, go through what we call bonding. Humans have something close to it called marriage, but for us it was much more involved than that. Bonding never came up between us, in fact we shied away from being open with one another and discussing anything at all having to do with our relationship, outside of dirty talk that is.

I came to believe that what we had was a situationship, one where I grew to love him deeply, but where he didn't return it. So, I vanished. I left without a word, telling myself I was protecting my heart at best, and protecting us from burning out, at worst. As they say, the ones that burn the brightest often end up ash the quickest. I thought I was saving us from ruining something perfect before it had the chance to destroy anyone. And I thought I was right too, because if he didn't think me bond worthy, he'd find it with someone else, and I couldn't bear to see that happen.

In truth, I was just a selfish coward.

And soon after leaving, when I had plenty of time to sit and reflect on my actions, I truly regretted it. Actually, I hated myself for it, because I didn't even give him the chance to confirm or deny my assumptions. I just listened to my over thoughts and ran with them. I hated myself for being too scared to stay and communicate with any kind of honesty, of being terrified of the depth of what we had to trust it and him... I hurt myself by doing that, but what's worse is how much I must have hurt him. I loved him too much to want to cause him any pain, so I even convinced myself to stay away to spare him anymore once I came to my senses.

When I came here a little more than a year later, having taken that time to confront my past, to acknowledge my mistakes, and to make a solemn promise with myself to never again run if I ever found something as incredible as what I had with Mezza, to instead, face my fears with honesty, openness, and trust. I truly believed the past was behind me. Including any chance of running into him. Especially in a place where we can never leave.

Fuck, I was wrong.

Seeing him again stirred up everything I'd buried; fear, guilt... and longing. I missed him. Not just the way he touched me, but the way he saw me. The way he made me feel like I was his world. I was certain that he'd be too angry, to hurt to ever want anything to do with me again, but then he sent me a gift. A message, really. Something darkly playful, and unmistakably him.

A severed hand.

Not just any hand, one that knew exactly how to find my G-spot and make me cry out begging for more, desperate and shaking in awe, rekindling the love that still burned inside me for him. A bold, twisted little token that said: I'm not angry. I'm not hurt, I'm in love and I'm coming for you. Still.

He's always known how to speak my language.

At first, I was afraid. Not of the gift, not even of him, but of myself. Of trusting that I won't mess it up, again. So, we took it slow. Now, seven months later... we're back to being inseparable. Stronger. Wilder. Better. Our days are filled with teasing threats of filth, of demanding and claiming kisses and grabs, and our nights? Naked, sweaty, and absolutely ardent in all of the best ways.

He wants me for life this time. And I'm not running anymore.

But regardless of our reconciliation, of the passion growing between us and continued commitment we practice daily, there's a new challenge testing us now. Mezza's brother, Fester. He vanished. So, Mezza has been taking little trips over the last four months to try and search for him. He suspects Fester might have gotten into something dangerous, something that made him choose to take a huge risk and enter the portal located at the Bermuda Triangle. The one that stranded each of us here. There are two portals on Earth, one transporting to and one transporting away, only the one transporting away, the Bermuda one, is broken. All realms know that coming to Earth is a one-way trip, now, because the ancients who created these portals are no longer around to repair them when one goes faulty, like Bermuda.

Still, with Bermuda being so risky, there is a small chance, a one in ten thousand chances that when Fester walked through, he landed somewhere instead of perishing into a void. So, Mezza remains dedicated to being available if Fester should return. Because of this, and my never-ending support, we've had to at times explore more ways to connect and sate one another's needs long distance. We've been spending countless hours on video calls and relying on Thing to bridge some of that connection more physically.

It's amplified our hunger for sure, making our reunions incredibly intense and carnal, just the way I love it most. When he's at home, at the academy with me and his friends, we make sure we have plenty of bonding time and varying types of it, for him to release some of the negative energies that get bottled up inside when he's away.

One night Mezza introduced me to one of his friends from another class he's had to partner up with in projects. His name is Garrett Gates. He's a tall, lean man with jet black hair, dark sunken eyes, and a serious Lancelot vibe about him. If Lancelot had a dose of Jafar from Aladdin mixed into his personality. I wasn't very into him, except for physically. Thankfully it wasn't important for me to get to know him much and form a friendship, which I preferred because he wasn't my type, but he sure can fuck. Mezza only wants Garrett in my life for play, once in a while, not for friendship, and that suits me perfectly.

Our first romp was in Mezza's dorm, where he had Garrett take me on his bed. Garrett had very little going for him with me, except the way that man touched my body. He had this tender violence about him that just made me welcome him into my arms when Mezza was really jonesing for some cuck play. He did that often. Mezza liked to watch from his comfortable, padded black armchair. Naked, stroking himself, while directing Garrett on how to position me, how to hold me, how to go rough and fuck me in ways that had Mezza drooling all over himself. I particularly enjoyed it when Garrett held my hands up and behind my head, his hands holding at my elbows, bent, making my breasts push out and bounce freely with each thrust as Garrett pounded into me from behind. My back; arched. My breasts; loud and center staged, wildly dancing for Mezza's eyes. And a large cock sliding in and out fervently from behind, through my slit, as Garrett teased my clit and made my cheeks clap against his hips. My eyes were locked on Mezza the whole time Garrett fucked me, watching him pleasure himself, and wishing he were in my mouth instead of his own fist.

After another one of Mezza's trips to find Fester, making his needs ramp up after the frustrations of brick walls and cold cases, he arranged for me to meet another of his friends, Sonny. But everyone called him Lurch, because of his last name and his demeanor. I really like Sonny; we get along very well and seem to have an ease with each other. Mezza, Sonny, and I quickly grew into a fierce protective and caring friendship. Sonny was even growing a bond with Thing, their mutual silence brought a sort of respect and understanding between them that worked well. He was a moody, silent type of man, who cared deeply and loved strongly. The biggest man I've ever seen at seven feet tall, too. But he's sweet and deeply intelligent, but you'd never know it unless he allowed you too. Sonny is a distant relative to the Addams lineage, which is how Mezza knew him, though he's not truly related to Mezza. Lurch was created, not born.

Dr. Frankenstein used some parts of Miguel Enriquez Addams, a privateer of the Caribbean, to make Sonny Lurchfield. It was actually Miguel's member and tongue, specifically, that caused Lurch to be the silent yet dominating presence that he is today.

Miguel rose to infamy in the early 18th century as a famous Spanish pirate, but few know that he was cursed before his demise. A voodoo priestess, whom he had spurned when she caught him dick deep inside her sister. She gathered some of Miguel's saliva and semen after a night of drunken intimacy and manipulation, then cursed his tongue and cock, ensuring that he could never speak without his words sounding incredibly sexual and explicit, surely to ruin his chances of finding peace or love. The curse also heightened his desire and stamina for sex and pleasure to an insatiable, almost harmful and demonic level, not considering that her curse would make him an ideal match for satisfying my succubus side. It's a classic case of one person's trash being another's treasure, and he is a treasure.

"Sonny, meet Tish. But be careful, if given the chance, she'll bite, then seduce you into biting her back. She's a devious little sex demon." Mezza introduces me, so proudly.

Sonny doesn't answer, instead he looks me up and down, the dark and hungry look in his eyes causing my whole body to flush and shiver, Sonny then sniffs the air,

"Present." He orders. I look to Mezza in question.

"He wants you naked, on your back, legs wide and ready, presenting your pussy for him to taste. He must like you." Mezza explains with a cheery smile.

"Giving orders already huh? Gonna present for me afterwards, big guy? Make it fair and all?" I challenge back. Only if I know and like you, will I just obey you, all others must answer to my challenges for power. I'm not an easy submissive after all.

In answer Sonny slowly steps into me, and I step back. He continues until I'm near the wall behind me, his presence acting as intimidation, answering my challenge with domination and power, the silent and scary kind. I can feel my thighs getting wet. He presses me against the brick wall of Mezza's room - we always use his room for safety when others are involved. Then, Sonny grips my neck, my hair sticking to the wall's texture as he leans in and smells me, looking me over he feels my body up, testing how our energies and forms blend.

Then he kisses me. Its searing and deep, almost making me forget my own name. I reach up and hold on, encouraging him with my enthusiastic acceptance and silent plea for more. He kisses so good that my breath gets lost in it, and when he pulls away, he growls 'Mine" then looks to Mezza, nodding his agreement that he wants to proceed with this play dynamic. Personally, I prefer it rough, and Sonny certainly knows how to deliver, so when Mezza turns to me in question of if I want to proceed, I shiver again then nod my agreement.

"Don't move, if you do, I'll fuck you so hard it'll feel like a punishment." Sonny growls.

On his knees before me, he holds me up as he slides his tongue into my slit. It's long, very long, fat, and so strong. I hate when a man goes down on me with a soft tongue, my pussy needs so much more than that, and Sonny really delivers it. He grinds his tongue against me with a strong pressure and has me moaning in truth, reflecting openly to all around just how much he commands of me naturally. I couldn't help my hips from the subtle rolls as they chased his tongue for more, either.

"Oh, fuck! Don't stop!" My hand reaches down and fists his short spiky black hair, pulling his face into me more. He growls, then his hands grab me as he stands back up,

"Naughty girl, I told you to stay still or else... Now you're gonna get it." He threatens,

He holds both my wrists tight and above my head. The strength he displays should terrify me, because it's so powerful I know I'm completely at his mercy, he can do anything he wants to me. I'm still pressed against the brick wall, naked, part scared and part turned on so high I could cum if he just spoke the words. He kisses me then, suddenly, with a rough dominating demand in his lips and tongue. His tongue feels as good in my mouth as he did in my slit,

"Fuck it with your mouth like you will my dick later, I know how much you like sucking things." He demands.

I'm gagging on sucking his tongue... my hands exploring his chest and shoulders as I practically try to climb him when without using his hands, Sonny then thrusts his hard cock into me and begins to pound, hard. Skin slapping, grunts and moans breathing into the air, I cum. Over and over, I cum. Without any warning or moment of adjustment he just fucks me. The pain of his stretch only heightens my arousal, and the slapping of my ass when he reaches down and decides I need more stimulation, continues my slit convulsing around his dick. Moaning out with unfiltered passion, I continue giving head to his long, strong tongue. His cock thrusting into me so hard that by the time he finally cums himself, my ass is nearing purple, and I'm spent, limp, cumming yet again. I'm finding out firsthand just how powerful and dangerous his drive is. He truly is a monster.

I've never met a man who could actually handle me and my hunger, until now. Mezza's amazing at handling what I need as my partner, but I'm a succubus, not even a vampire has the capacity to match me and Mezza doesn't just know it, he celebrates it. Sonny is different from most, and Mezza really likes seeing me turned into a limp writhing puddle with a giant dick taming me beyond what he's ever seen. It turns him on to see me so spoiled and I love that about him. I, Morticia Frump, love to cuck Gomez with Lurches dick hammering my pussy, and Thing ready to join in for more... Life is beautiful.

Since that first time with Sonny, Mezza and I have become good friends with him, and since Sonny seems to really like my endurance, personality, and openness to exploring new weird things, he always makes himself available as much as he can when we invite him over. Garrett on the other hand, is more of an occasional addition. Something he has also stated he prefers.

The last time Mezza was home, was a week ago and he was very stressed, more than usual. His grades are dropping, risking his graduating on time with us. His worry over his brother starting to take its toll. Sonny and I have been helping him with his studies though, backing off only a little on the times we play together in favor of more study time. One night Mezza shared with me that he was both stressed over grades, his brother, and over me and whether he was being a good boyfriend. He wouldn't just take my words of reassurance, so I decided to organize a romantic dinner for two to show him that nothing has dropped, that I am here, loving him, and in full support of his every happiness which includes his family.

I set it up in my room, where I could attend to his every desire privately. Dressed in nothing but my trusty contraceptive charm and a pair of black shiny stilettos and mesh black ruffled panties, I served him a plate of perfectly seared scallops, flame touched steamed rice with sauce, and a small peanut Thai side salad. Then, I crawled under the table and began to slowly love his cock, as he ate. Meticulously showing every inch of him devotion with my tongue, hands, and lips. As he ate so did I.

Once he finished eating, I withdrew and kissed his cock, promising it more to come before snapping my fingers, using my magic to disappear any mess still leftover. He helps me up from under the table and we move over to where I have a loveseat and fireplace just off the side from the entrance table of my suite. There we cuddle and sip some blood-tinged wine, watching the flames flutter and dance, letting the meal settle a little before the next course.

But before the next course could be presented, Mezza turns to me and produces a small, elegant box. Nestled inside is an exquisite collar, a delicate chain with a moon-shaped pendant that would rest perfectly in the hollow of my collarbone. It's breathtaking.

His eyes meet mine, and he smiles softly, asking, "I feel home in you, and I've been thinking about this for a while now, I want to ask, will you bond with me, Cara Mia?" The gravity of his question wasn't missed. Mate bonding is a lifelong commitment, a sacred vow that can only be broken by death. We've been dancing around the idea for months since re-establishing our relationship, so I had an idea it was on the horizon. Yet, his sudden proposal still caught me off guard, sending a shiver of excitement and anticipation down my spine.

Happy tears well up in my eyes. His words, the last several months together, the life we've started to build and continue to plan further, as we near graduation next year all envelope me in a clear picture. I don't have to think very long on this, because I've been thinking about it already. Mezza is my soulmate I feel that; He feels like home too. So, I smile at him, and let the tears slip out for him to see the truth in my answer, then I take in a deep breath and confidently say,

"Yes!"

Mezza takes me into his arms and kisses me so deep it causes my lower belly to churn in need. I answer that need by flexing my whole tongue into his mouth, showing him with action how much I need him to fuck me right here, right now. He answers the call by leaving the table and holding out his hand for me. I place my palm in his and let him guide me to the end of my bed. He waves his hand and the shadows he commands swirl into a big black cloud. Seconds later, they disperse, and a large mirror faces us, standing on its own it reflects the two of us at the foot of my bed in perfect detail.

He then summons the lit candles I had set all over my apartment for the romantic date that brought him here tonight. He directs them to float nearer to us and place themselves all around the bed for the perfect lighting. Then sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror, he turns me to face the reflective surface as well, then guides me to sit down in his lap. He brushes my long black hair aside, uncovering my shoulder and then begins to kiss the back of my neck. His eyes are hungry and dark in the reflection, so much so that I look down, escaping the power of that gaze to catch my breath, but he won't have that.

"Don't look away, my love, I want you to watch everything I do to you, everything you're going to do to me." He says.

My eyes move back to him, and I obey. I watch as he flexes his lips against the curve of my shoulder, his tongue as he reaches it out to run up my neck, and his lips again, as he pulls on my earlobe and bites my flesh. His eyes locked onto me the whole time. It's intimidating and overwhelming to have that much of someone's attention, I usually don't like it, but it's also so intimate and freeing when it's Mezza doing it. I want him to watch me, to look at all of me as he caresses me before the mirror, while kissing and sucking along my flesh.

"I want you to see how gorgeous you look bouncing on my dick." He rasps the words into my ear as I sit, naked and arched back against him letting him touch me in whatever way he wants. The deep vibrations of his voice and the seductive breeze of his breath work to stoke the flames inside me, compelling me to heed every demand he makes. I want to submit so deeply to him.