The Healing of Eve Ch. 08
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My sleep was so profound that when I first awoke my mind was befuddled, and it took me a minute or two to remember where I was. Overnight the rain and cloud had dissipated, and the pale sun shone through the window whose curtains I had been too exhausted to draw when I went to bed. I threw on the borrowed robe and headed downstairs, worried for Beth. To my great relief and surprise when I entered the sitting room I found her, sitting on the sofa, talking quietly to John who remained exactly where I had left him the night before, seated in his chair before the fire. Martha was there too, kneeling on the hearth tending to the fire. I bade them good morning and Beth greeted me with a smile but she didn’t try and get up. I leaned over and gave her a kiss. She winced with pain as she twisted to meet my lips with hers.
“I’m a lot better than I was last night,” she responded to my worried question, “but my ribs are so painful that I can hardly move, John says I must have broken at least two of them when I fell yesterday.” I sat on the sofa next to Beth recalling Martha’s enigmatic statement of the previous evening that I was to rest so as to be ready to help John heal Beth. John seemed to read my thoughts.
“I trust you slept well Hazel,” he said, “and I hope you are hungry, for Martha cooks a delicious breakfast.” I nodded, I had not really thought about food for worry about Beth, but seeing her sitting up, even though in obvious pain, was a tremendous relief and I realised that I was absolutely ravenous.
“Martha, my dear, perhaps we could have our breakfast in the sitting room today, Beth will struggle to sit at the table, and we don’t want to put her through unnecessary pain.” John’s voice was conciliatory as though eating in the sitting room required Martha to grant a considerable boon. Martha flicked the last bit of recalcitrant ash off her shovel and into the flames she had goaded from the fire and grunted. Raising herself to her feet she looked as though she heartily disapproved of this lowering of standards but nevertheless she headed to the kitchen, and I followed her, offering to help. In the kitchen Martha seemed to thaw out a little and was grateful for the extra pair of hands. I was curious about her relationship with John but was wary of asking questions that might seem intrusive. So we chatted about mundane things while breakfast was prepared and served into plates which we carried into the sitting room.
John was not lying when he described Martha’s breakfast as delicious. There was bacon, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes wonderful warm home-made soda bread and hot coffee to follow. We ate in companiable silence, for my part I was enjoying the food far too much to make small talk and John seemed content to enjoy his breakfast in peace, perhaps knowing that the rest of his day was to be occupied with weightier matters. After finishing the meal, I helped Martha ferry the empty plates into the kitchen but she declined my offer to wash the dishes, suggesting that I return to the sitting room where John would no doubt need to talk to us about our ‘mission’ as she put it. I did so and was greeted by John, “Come and sit-down Hazel,” he said, “before you tell me why you made your arduous journey to my humble cottage, I need to explain how I plan to heal Beth.
“Good,” John spoke quietly once I had taken my place next on the Sofa. “Beth has broken ribs, she is lucky not to have punctured a lung and she is in considerable pain which, unless I heal her, will likely last for several weeks. She will certainly have to be evacuated from here by vehicle, which is possible but not easy as I’m sure you can imagine.” John held Beth in a steady gaze. “I propose to perform a healing ritual this afternoon,” he said, “which, if successful, will result in your complete recovery. After resting here overnight you will be able to walk back to your hotel tomorrow without undue difficulty.”
“I am ready for any ritual that will rid me of this pain,” Beth said quietly, “but you say ‘if successful,’ under what circumstances would the ritual not succeed?”
John sighed. “There are many things that may prevent your complete healing,” he said, “but the chief cause of failure would be that for some reason I was unable to bring you to orgasm.” Beth started to speak but John raised his hand in a gesture that clearly bade her remain silent.
“I will explain,” he said, “and then answer any questions you may have. If your injuries were less severe, I may have been able to heal you simply by the laying on of hands, but to knit bone and repair the torn muscle and ligaments you have sustained needs more spiritual energy that can be generated by one person alone.” John looked from Beth to me. “You both know that the outpouring of spiritual energy released during sexual climax is immensely powerful. It is this force that I must harness if I am to heal you. But as I’m sure you know; you must participate willingly and wholeheartedly, or the ritual will certainly Levent travesti fail.”
Beth nodded, “I am not learned in these ways, “she said, “but I submit myself to you,” she smiled, “and I can think of worse medicine.”
“That is certainly true,” John laughed.
“May Hazel participate in the ritual?” Beth asked. John paused before speaking, turning his sightless eyes on me. Even so it felt as though he could see into my soul.
Finally, he spoke. “I see that she knows your body intimately. Perhaps together we will be able to bring you to a climax that you will remember for more than just your healing.” There was a sparkle in John’s eye and laughter in his voice.
“But that is for later,” he said, seriousness returning to his expression, “now you must tell me the purpose of your visit here.” John listened intently as Beth, and I explained the story. We left out no detail and at first John asked only the occasional question of clarification. His face showed little emotion as our tale unfolded save when we described the way in which the daemon occupying Eve’s body had appeared at the height of the Great Rite and how Beth had banished it.
Over this his eyes clouded and his brow furrowed. He made every attempt to hide his concern, but it was obvious that this worried him a great deal. He asked us to describe the appearance of the foul creature and its demeanour and whether we could remember the precise words Beth had used when dismissing it. Our honest answer to this last question was ‘No.’ We were following no precept, neither had we any prior experience. Beth had used a form of words which seemed appropriate given the extreme circumstances in which we found ourselves and they had apparently been effective, but John refrained from comment and concern was written on his face.
At the end of our story, he questioned us at length about Eve. Did we think she was behaving out of character? Was she well in herself? This we had to think about, it was hard to know. Our simple dinner invitation a few weeks earlier had resulted in a passionate encounter in which Eve had displayed a wantonness that had certainly taken me by surprise. But we had not known Eve long enough to know whether this was unusual. On reflection I thought it probably was but could not be sure.
Beth finished our explanation with a straightforward plea. “We came to seek your advice,” she said, “can you help?” John sat silently, for what seemed like an age before replying.
“The simple answer is that I don’t know,” he said, “I must reflect on what you have told me and also discuss it with Martha.” He sighed, “but first there is your healing and for that I must prepare.
We will perform the ritual here this afternoon. I will leave you to enjoy my house, Martha will take care of any needs you may have. My study, which is just through that door contains a small library of books which you may find interesting if you find time weighs heavily on your hands.” He gestured to a wooden door to the right of the fireplace. “And now I will leave you, I will return just after 3 o’clock.” And with that John rose to his feet and without further words, left the room.
Beth and I looked at each other. “We must just be patient,” I said, “at least it looks like we are in for an interesting afternoon.” Beth looked worried, “Interesting isn’t quite the word I would have used,” she replied, “I’m in so much pain I don’t know how I’m going to orgasm. Every time I move my ribs the pain is excruciating.”
I put my hand on hers, “John seems to know what he’s doing,” I was reassuring. Beth smiled, a rather bleak smile. “I hope you’re right,” she said. “Anyway, help me upstairs and into the shower, I can’t let John do whatever it is he’s planning to do to me without being clean. Then I’d like to rest. Fascinating though John’s library is likely to be, I think it can wait.”
I helped Beth to her feet and slowly and painfully we made our way upstairs to the bedroom. I turned on the shower and, removing her robe, Beth stepped beneath the cascade of steaming water. The bruise on her side was a like dark stain on her white skin. I dropped my robe to the floor and joined Beth, gently cleansing her body with the fragrant shower gel. I washed and rinsed her hair and she rested her body against mine while my soapy fingers washed her intimate places. She sighed deeply and I kissed the back of her neck, holding her to me. Despite her pain, Beth’s vibrant sexuality was alive and well, it showed in the way her nipples engorged into the firm pink peaks that I found so irresistible and in the way she opened her legs to allow my fingers to penetrate her more deeply when I washed her. I had little doubt that when the time came, John and I would be able to bring her to orgasm.
“You need to rest,” I said, slowly withdrawing my fingers from her. “And now you’re beautifully clean, outside and in.”
Beth sighed. “I do feel a lot better for a shower, Levent travestileri help me dry please.”
Beth held on to me as we stepped out of the shower, another fall would not help matters. I wrapped her in a large white towel and patted her dry. Then we lay together in bed and Beth slept. I remained by her side, keeping as still as possible so as not to move her, wondering what the afternoon would bring.
At round about 1 o’clock there was a knock on the door and Martha entered bearing a tray with two bowls of soup and some of her delicious crusty bread. “You’d better have something nourishing in you if you’re to get healed this afternoon,” she said. Beth had woken at the sound of the door and thanked Martha sleepily. Martha grunted and left the room, showing every sign of disapproval, but whether she approved or not, the soup smelled delicious. I managed to get Beth comfortable sitting up, propped on a mixture of the pillows and cushions from the chair and we ate our meal, with murmurs of appreciation.
After we had finished, I put on my robe and carried the empty bowls down to the kitchen. Martha was there, clearing away the remains of her own lunch. She took the tray from me without speaking. She obviously had something on her mind, and I thought it best to tackle it head on.
“That soup was delicious Martha,” I said, “but if there is something you need to say to me, please say it. We’re both adults.”
Martha put the tray down and looked at me steadily. “Why do you imagine that Brother John lives in this remote cottage with only the likes of me to take care of him?”
I resisted the temptation to be facetious and contented myself with a shake of the head.
“It’s to get away from the need to heal people. Do you have any idea of what it costs him to heal someone like your friend up there?”
“No, not really, how could I know?” I returned her question.
“Well, I’ll tell you. It exhausts him mentally, physically and spiritually, it can take him days, sometimes weeks to recover. When he was younger and could still see it wasn’t so bad, but these days…” Her voice tailed off, her anger gone now that she had said her piece and her expression betrayed only sadness. I suddenly felt sorry for her. I had no idea of the nature of Martha’s relationship with John but I could see that she cared for him deeply and that her disapproval was rooted in concern for him.
I spoke gently. “Martha, we didn’t come here either seeking or needing healing, we came because we needed John’s advice to help a friend in dire need, as I told you last night. Beth’s injury was the result of an accident, not by design and it was John who offered the chance to heal her, we did not ask for it although we accept with gratitude, all the more so now that we understand that it comes at considerable personal cost.”
“Aye, well, he’s made up his mind on that score,” Martha rose to her feet. “I’ll be out for my afternoon walk in a minute or two, the fire will be made up before I go so at least you won’t freeze.”
I left her then and returned upstairs deep in thought. That Martha cared for John I was sure of, but was she also jealous? The healing ritual that John was about to perform involved a sex act with not one but two younger women. Maybe she minded, and with that intriguing thought in my head I settled back into bed with Beth until the clock showed two thirty and it was time to prepare.
Beth and I showered together again. The livid bruises on her torso were like an insult on her otherwise flawless body. I helped Beth into her robe and just before the clock showed 3pm we entered the sitting room.
The room was comfortably warm, the curtains having been closed and the fire banked up, clearly Martha’s doing before she set out on her walk. Of John there was no sign, and so we sat together on the sofa in expectant silence. It was not long before the door opened and John entered the room, an imposing figure, dressed in a long purple robe adorned with a filigree pattern in gold. Silently on bare feet he crossed the floor, moving so confidently that it was impossible to tell that he could not see. He smiled, and his smile seemed to light up the room.
“Are you ready Beth? He said. His voice was deep and resonant.
“Yes, ” Beth replied simply. He turned to me, “Hazel?”
“I am,” I said.
“Then let us begin,” he held out his arms to Beth and she raised herself to her feet, a fleeting grimace of pain crossing her face as she did so. John spoke gently, “You know there is sometimes just a hair’s breadth between pain and ecstasy,” he said, “and this afternoon, if you will allow it, through ecstasy your pain will be healed.”
Beth nodded. “Yes, I am willing,” she said.
“Then perhaps I may help you to remove your robe? John did not wait for Beth’s reply, but drew closer to her and, placing his hands at the nape of her neck, drew his fingers through her hair. Beth gasped at his touch, Travesti levent her eyes opening wide with surprise, her cheeks flushing. I had never seen anything like it. In an instant Beth had melted, her pain seemed to be forgotten in a rush of arousal. She squirmed with ill-concealed lust as John massaged her head and neck.
“Ah Beth,” he said, quietly as he continued to move his hands lasciviously through her hair, “I see that your body is rich in zones of pleasure, we will explore them together and thereby rid you of the source of your current pain.”
“Yes. Oh yes,” Beth breathed, between the small gasps that John’s sinuous fingers elicited as he gently squeezed the lobes of her ears.
“Hazel, perhaps you will help Beth to remove her robe, “he said, gently turning Beth so that she faced me, “my hands seem to be fully occupied at the moment.”
“Of course,” I replied, and while John continued his sensuous head and neck massage, I began to unbutton Beth’s robe. I was in no hurry; Beth was clearly lost in the flood of sensation that even the lightest of John’s touches seemed to be able to conjure. She leaned back against his body, eyes closed, lips parted, uttering small gasps and moans of pleasure whenever his exploring hands found a particularly sensitive place. I enjoyed myself, inserting my fingers between the folds of her garment at each button, feeling the silky softness of her skin as I loosened the fastening. John continued to work on Beth as I moved slowly down her robe until, at last, the final button was freed.
“All undone,” I said.
“Thank you Hazel, I sense you are no stranger to the sensual arts,” John smiled and as I nodded my acknowledgement, hooked his fingers in the parted robe, drawing it over Beth’s shoulders and, letting it drop to the floor between them.
With the robe gone, John had unrestricted access to Beth’s body and his hands began to explore her. He first drew them down her back, lightly skating over her skin with the tips of his fingers, before bringing them round her sides and placing them across her belly. Then, spreading his fingers wide, he slowly drew his hands upwards. Beth arched her back, leaning into him, thrusting her breasts forward as John’s hands approached them, their rose-coloured peaks rigid with desire. Whether the cry she let out as John’s hands passed over the livid bruise on her side was one of pain or pleasure, I could not tell.
Beth’s body shuddered as John’s fingertips circled her breasts, at first carefully avoiding the swollen nipples that I longed to feel between my lips, and then, just as I thought Beth would faint with anticipation, he began to circle the delicate pink skin of her areolas and, to the accompaniment of Beth’s moans, slowly play over the distended buds of her nipples.
John spoke quietly, his lips close to Beth’s ear, “Ah yes Beth, how beautiful you are, in time you would orgasm simply through my caressing your wonderful breasts…See how your nipples flower under the touch of my fingers…Yes, ah yes, so sweet and hard now, and what if I squeeze them, oh so gently, so, so gently, like this, just like this. Why you are almost ready to cum, but it’s too soon Beth, you must wait a while. And Hazel, what of Hazel? Come Hazel, take off your robe, come take these ripe nipples into your mouth, they long for the pleasure of your lips and rasp of your lithe tongue, my poor hands alone will not suffice. And, if I may, your body too should be honoured, I feel your desire and would not have you left wanting.” His voice was quiet but deep and resonant, I lost no time in doing his bidding, peeling off my robe which was now such an encumbrance. John cupped Beth’s breasts in his hands, her proudly erect nipples jutting forward over the curl of his fingers, offering her up to my willing mouth. Leaning forward, I closed my lips eagerly over one nipple after the other, sucking them into my mouth and rolling the tip of my tongue around the soft skin at their base. Beth gasped and her whole body shook as I bent to my work channelling all the love and passion I felt for my soul mate.
“So Hazel, I was right, you are indeed skilled in the sensual arts.” John stepped away leaving Beth’s body to me. “I will leave Beth in your good hands while I remove my own robe.” I took him at his word and gave myself up to the task of pleasuring Beth using every trick I knew. Lost in the wonders of Beth’s lovely body I heard and felt rather than saw John as he quietly disrobed and moved round behind me. When he first touched me it was as though an electric current was passing through my body. All he did was rest his hands on my back, just above my buttocks, but the tingling sensation that emanated from them flowed through my entire being. The sensation was extraordinary, it was as though my skin was being brushed by the wings of a thousand butterflies. Now I knew why Beth had immediately melted under John’s touch, my body too was on fire.
I was still bent forwards with my lips and tongue fully engaged in the ravishing of Beth’s breasts and swollen nipples and somehow the intensity of sensation that engulfed me seemed to pass through to her. I felt her body shudder and her gasps of pleasure merged into a continuous cry of impending ecstasy.
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