Cursed (closed)

The picture of her bent over a laundry tub, lookin' pretty with loose strands of her hair falling down, comes to mind again.

"No," I reply, "Word will get around about you." "Everyone will just put you down as a grateful whore and not really expect much from you."

"If you want to keep up some sort of pretence of being anything but my whore, you may want to learn how to do my laundry. Or hire a girl if not."

Luckily for us, not so for the seller, a sutler points out a complete outfit ready to. Seems a woman's man died and she's headin' back north. It's got all the fixin's tent, cots, cookin' gear, a writin' table and chairs, an empty trunk. He quotes a hundred, I think fifty, we settle on seventy-five for the sake of the widow lady. The Reb gold coins pay for it.

It's a good spot, close by a pumpin' well and far from the latrines. Even gots itself a shade tree.

I hung back while he made the deal. I wasn't sure what I expected when I went into the tent but it actually looked decent. Long ago I crossed the sands of Syria and saw Bedouin tribes that lived in elaborate tents. Those were very comfortable to stay in.

I felt like I was staring at the shell of a home. Everything was there but it still felt empty. I noticed the metal wash tub in the corner and immediately decided I was going to take a hot bath later. My legs were starting to itch from the dirt. I opened the trunk and found several books in the bottom with a thin nightshirt. The cot was double wide, everything used but still in working condition. I still wasn't sure how I was going to keep myself busy while Jethro tended his duties.

I wandered around absently, gently running my fingers over each piece of furniture, it seemed strange these things belonged to me. Id never owned anything I couldn't carry with me before. I never had a need for a home.

I made mental notes of how I'd like to rearrange everything, I wanted more space. I also felt like I wanted to be alone, maybe.

"I've never done laundry," I said gently as I wandered, "never cooked before neither."

"I wouldn't expect you to," I answer, "It's quite a fetchin' picture in my head of you bent over... doing my laundry." "But we may want to hire out such things. Perhaps we can employ you a maid?"

"Laundry doin' is heavy work. As for cookin' maybe you can find someone to show you the basics. Make coffee anyways."

"I'll leave you to get settled. I have duties to catch up on. And I'll be home 'bout sundown. Is there any thing I can do for you before I go or bring back?"

My eyes narrowed, "you think I can't do it myself?"

The quickest way to annoy me is to tell me I can't do something, it's also the surest way to provoke me into proving someone wrong.

"I'll figure it out," i am slightly defensive and defiant, "and I don't think I need anything, though i'm sure my horse would appreciate a couple of flakes of hay if you can find some."

I was heading out of the tent to tend him when I said it. He had carted me around all morning and waited patiently while I bought things. I suppose the same could be said of Jethro. Regardless, I made sure there was a bucket of water in the shade for him when I tied him to the line that connected the tree to one of the posts on the tent.

"I don't mean to be cross," I told him before he rode away. He seemed put off.

I wondered for a moment if he would just neglect to come back, he wouldn't would he?

I absent mindedly started a fire and filled every pot and pan with water and huddled them around it. I pulled the wash tub to the center of the tent and draped mosquito netting in front of it, to create a sort of sheer curtain. It hadn't gotten cold enough to kill them all yet and the high pitched buzzing was annoying. I emptied the water into the tub and looked at the water level, disappointing. I repeated the process again and draped one of the heavy blankets over the tub to try and keep the steam in.

I thought about the great Roman bath houses I had visited so long ago. They were beautiful, the water was always clean and warm. What I wouldn't give!

Filling the tub up enough so that I could bathe took damn near a couple of hours. And After running back and forth with water buckets and pans I was exhausted and my arms ached. It was late afternoon and starting to cool off.

I patted my horse one more time and moved him to another side of the tree so he could graze a different patch of grass before coming back into the tent and slipping out of the grey dress. I unlaced my corset and set it aside. I took off the rags that were still clinging to me and stepped into the warm water.

The tub was deep, deep enough for me to sit down in and slightly oblong. My knees remained bent enough that they barely broke the water's surface. I didn't care. I rubbed them slowly, removing all the dirt, and letting it sink to the bottom of the tub. It felt good to let my skin breathe. I don't know how long I sat there with my head leaning against the rim of the wash tub and my arms draped over the sides. The steam from the water made my wavy hair come loose, several pieces floated free of the hair pins and lay coiled on my neck and shoulders.

I felt like I could fall asleep but I heard the rustle of the tent flap behind me.

Never really hurried through my duties before. Wasn't like I had anythin' better to with my free time except drink. Not that I got anythin' 'gainst drinkin'. Now I got me a couple hours anyway 'fore the sun goes down.

I dumb the bale of fodder off the shoulders of my horse and tie him up beside Ashe's. In front of each horse I dump out a couple of pounds of rolled oats. In good times, cavalry horses eat quite well. So do Sergeants. I got me a couple of boxes of taters, root veggetables, cheese, bread, apples, beans, mollasses, a smoked ham and a slab of bacon. A small keg of beer and a bag of ground coffee too. Managing to pile it all up, I carry the stuff with my arms full to the tent.

Duckin' under the flap I see Ashe in her little tub with her back to me. Nice neck and shoulders! The mosquito netting is pretty near see through.

"It's just me," I say.

I got one eye on Ashe as I put down my load of stuff. She mostly fits in the tub, with her legs bent. You can just see her nipples at the water line. In spite of just recoverin' from my last encounter with her, my cock starts to get hard lookin' at her.

"When you're finished with the bath, I'll take a turn. Exceptin' for that plunge in the Stoney last night, it's been month or so since my last bath."

I hated to get out of the water, it was still warm. I really could have fallen asleep just as I was. I listened to him move about the tent, he brought things with him. I could smell the ham plain as day, even though it didn't make me want to eat it.

"It's still warm," my sleepy voice answered him. I looked over at the cot where I had laid out the clean linen shirt, it probably belonged to the widow's husband but that made no difference to me. I just needed something to sleep in.

I hoisted myself out of the water and walked naked to pull it over my head. I knew he was probably watching me. This was the first time he'd ever seen my body this way.

It was ruined and I knew it. He could see the thick scars on my shoulders and the one at the base of my spine. I used to be a beautiful creature, c'est la vie I suppose. I pulled the shirt over myself quickly, for the first time I cared what I looked like in front of him. It didn't make any sense. The linen stuck to my wet skin and made me shiver. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and curled up on the cot facing him and feeling wounded.

Lord Jesus! She sure looks every bit a succubus gettin' out of the tub. Fabulous breasts! I turn to look at her ass, as she walks past. Looks as good as her tits. I'm figurin' the scars on her back are from losin' her wings and tail. Reminds me of who I am sort of co-habitting with.

Seein' how we done it last night, I ain't got no shame in undressin' in front of her. I turn my back to her anyways and strip down. Guns and sword get hung up on post with my hat. I hop about a bit gettin' my boots off. Thought of gettin' Ashe to help but she's curled up on the cot lookin' all melancholy or somethin'. I kick 'em off and get the rest of my clothes off, trying to keep some modesty by not dangling a half hard cock in Ashe's face and keepin' my back to her.

She should like what she sees, most gals do. Pa owns a lumbermill. I've been swingin' an ax and sawin' logs since I was a young 'un. Didn't give me big muscles, more like lots of them. Tall too. Mami said lots of gals like that. Some gals even liked my scars. The two whip scars from Pa, the bayonet outside of my right thigh from a Reb, the knife in the back from Ned Bolton and the bullet in the back of my shoulder, exiting in front, from another Reb.

The tub is way to small for me. My legs would hang over. So, I just kneel in it, with my back to Ashe, and start to wash myself down. I'm lookin' over my shoulder trying to do my back and I see Ashe lookin' sad.

"What's with you? I thought a hot bath put women folk in good moods."

"Well I'm not a woman," I remind him.

I don't say anything else. I'm not really the open hearted type, being alone for centuries will do that to a person. I can see him trying to wash but he's throwing so much water around trying to reach that it's making a mess. I don't like messes.

I slowly get up, leaving the blanket on the cot, and go find the smallest pot with a long handle on it. It holds maybe 3 cups of water. I carry it to the tub and scoop some water into it before slowly pouring it across his shoulders.

"This will work better," I suggest.

I stand behind him and keep pouring the water over his back. I can tell it's cooling off but I'm sure it still feels good. I walk around the side and hand him the pot.

"Are you hungry," I ask. I grab my dagger and set about cutting up an apple at the table, then the cheese. I tear off a piece of bread from the whole loaf and add it to the plate. If this was what he meant my cooking I could handle it.

I don't really know what else to do so I lay a cloth napkin over the food and go back to my cot to lie down again. My nightshirt has started to dry but I'm walking around barefoot and it's chilly now.

Yeah right! I'm not a woman. Good thing I got my back to her, so she don't see me grin at that remark. I was hopin' to get a backscrub but from the look on her face still, I'm lucky to get a ladle to do it myself and a cold supper to boot.

Sure feels nice to be somewhat clean again. Gotta remember in the future to let Ashe use the water first. The water is cold and murky by the time I stand up. Ashe isn't using the blanket so I dry myself off with it. It's coolin' off quick, so I get dressed.

"You not cold?" I ask as I pour myself a mug of beer, "Won't be dark for awhile yet. Get dressed we can talk by the fire."

I grab my supper plate and duck under the tent flap. Guess I got to get a fire goin' first. Puttin' my plate down, I get some wood from a small pile beside the tent and start on gettin' the fire goin'

I don't really want to, not at all actually but I feel if I don't whatever rift there is will only get bigger. I just haven't forgotten the nasty things he said this morning. Apparently having a soul means other people's opinions matter. I don't like it. So far the only pleasant thing about a soul is that feeling of elation and lightness during sex I'm thinking while I change back into my dress.

I settle down by the fire, sitting on the thick saddle pad I pulled off my horse earlier. I'm hoping Jethro keeps his distance. I can't stand the way he swings between hating me and making me feel good. I'm not very good at masking emotion, I know I wear it plainly on my face.

I readjust, trying to get comfortable.

My dinner ain't much to speak of, but I've had worse and less. Got a pretty girl as a sort of dinner companion. Even if she ain't much company. The look on her face shows she would rather be sulkin' in the tent or anythin' besides sittin' with me. Oh well! For better or worse, we're stuck with one another. I set my low stool down beside Ashe, so we can talk and I can look at her real nice and close. Lookin' at her is nice. I stuff my mouth with bread and cheese, washed down with beer.

"So! What's your story?" I ask, between mouthfuls, "I still don't rightly know who or what you really are." "Or what you used to be!"

"Where do you come from? Are you really from hell? Is Satan your lord, like it says in the Good Book?"

What if she is a minion of the Devil? Should I be helpin' her at all? Is my soul in danger, if I help her? Can I believe anything she says? You can't trusts demons. Every one knows that! Or it says it somewhere in the Bible, I'm sure. Maybe I should be takin' to carry one?

"Is my eternal soul in danger of burnin' in hell, if I make love to you?"

"I've lived a long time, it would be hard to explain my life to you. Most humans do not understand what it's like to live longer than one lifespan," I started.

I didn't really want to share but he did ask. He was trying to know me, for what purpose I couldn't guess.

"You already know my name, even if you can't remember,"

I went on for a minute, explaining to him how as a succubus I came into the world by being summoned. I wasn't born, just created.

"Some succubi give birth, some don't. No one really knows why. I haven't ever so I don't think I can. I definitely don't want to," I added quickly. It was a possibility I had not taken the time to consider in many years.

"I wasn't capable of love, not fair to a child," I said quietly.

I stared into the fire, remembering the men in my past. Some of them were most assuredly fathers, I had stolen them from their families. I felt the vice-like grip tighten around my heart, threatening to suffocate me in guilt. I teared up but managed to hold back.

"I have a lot of feelings now," I whispered.

I blinked hard trying to keep everything held together. I don't like talking about myself. I changed the subject.

"I don't think you're in any danger but what do I know?"

I think, I'm startin' to get the idea. Guess preachers and the bible are right. Although right at this moment, Ashe ain't actin' like no demon from hell. From the look on her face, seems more like she is wrestlin' with demons.

"Don't fret none," I say, "Mami will know what to do." "She'll make everythin' right."

What is right? Mami somehow takes back the soul she put in Ashe. And then what? Ashe goes back to being a murderer?! A winged demon preying on unsuspectin' men. Maybe fuckin' them too! I don't want her murderin'. Or fuckin' other men!

Maybe I should change the subject?

"So what do you do for fun?" I ask, "You must have done all sorts of things." "Is there anything you like to do? A hobby or somethin'"

"Myself, I like fishin' and dancin'. Always liked goin' to where there would be dancin'. Maybe would go dancin' sometime?"

That would be fun. Escortin' a real looker like her, holdin' her in my arms, maybe even break a sweat dancin'. I keep have these thoughts of a normal life. Picturin' Ashe doin' laundry, goin' dancin' with her and her with a young un at her heavy breast. That last thought came to mind when she mentioned succubi gettin' with child.

Who am I kiddin'. This whole thing is likely to end bad. My best case may be Ashe leavin' me with a broken heart and a vicous hangover of sorts.

I didn't do anything for fun except killing. Tasting flesh was fun but I couldn't tell him that. Everything I did had purpose. Things I did for pleasure got people killed most times.

"I ride," I said, nodding in the direction of the horses, "seen most of the known world from the back of a horse. Though now that I think about it I never really appreciated it."

The truth of it was that I never accepted the human world as a home. I usually made a lair of some sort, a den. I either lured men there or snuck about the back alleys finding the loner types. I was built to seduce and to kill, not to care.

"I guess I like dancing, only do it once in awhile when I need to," it slipped out before I could catch myself. I hoped he didn't ask why I needed to.

It was getting darker, camp started to quiet down for the night. I liked the cover of darkness. It was my blanket, it made me feel safe.

Seeing the way she looks after her horse, I figured she liked 'em. Got some consideration for other living things. She rides well, though she got some looks behind her back for riding astride. You can see her whole boot and most of her calf when she rides. Folk are sure to take her for a whore with displays of immodesty like that. I can't help grinnin'. If they only knew!

I almost asked why she would need to dance. But the way she cut off her words stopped me. Maybe she's ashamed of being some sort of dancin' girl. Sure would like to see her dance one of those exotic foreign dances. A picture of her in her old, ripped and ragged clothes doing one of those north African type dances springs to mind. Irresistible... and then I figure out what she meant. She would lure men to their deaths with a dance. I'm still picturing her dancin'.

My supper done, I think of bed. I gave orders to be awakened at five in the mornin'. As a Sergeant I can't shirk my duties to bed my whore. Well not two nights runnin' anyways. Early to bed and early to rise. Got me a nice bedwarmer!

"I got a trooper comin at five in the mornin' to wake me," I say, "So I think I might hit the hay."

I finish my beer and take my plate and mug inside the tent. I have to light the lantern by now. It's not overly warm and normally I would just climb in to bed after takin' my boots off. But with a warm body beside me, I figure I can strip to my drawers anyways. Taking off my coat and shirt, I sit on the cot and struggle to get my boots off.

This is the part I've been dreading. I know he expects me to sleep next to him. I rub my arms to warm them before getting up and following him inside the tent. I don't know if I can stand it all night. I can sleep damned near anywhere, although a cot is preferable to the ground I just dont know if I can let him that close. We'll end up tangled together again, a thought that makes me ache for it.

I can go a week or more between feedings usually, but that's if I am out on my own and have the freedom to give others a lot of space between them and myself. Right now I don't have that option. I start nervously rearranging and tidying the contents of the "house". I start feeling a tight anxiousness in my chest, a frantic almost panicked sensation bubbles beneath the surface. I try to keep my face placid but I doubt it works.

I just dont want to cause him undeserved pain. I still feel guilty for last night. I'm sure it hit him like a freight train this morning.

Once I feel like I've touched everything in the tent multiple times I stand there, not knowing what to do or how to act. Its almost unbearable and it makes me want to listen to my instincts that tell me to run.

You would think Ashe was a virgin on her wedding night. She actually looks scared. As a soulless killer succubus, I wonder if she's actually ever gone to sleep with a man beside her. And not woken beside him, dead. Him dead, that is. I honestly don't know what to say to calm her fears, whatever they are.

I kick off my boots, stand and drop my pants. I always seem to be half-hard whenever Ashe is in view. It's chilly, so I climb between the blankets and move over against the tent wall.

"Put the lantern out and come to bed, Ashe," I say.

I undress and put my shift over the back of the chair and pull the nightshirt back over my head. My legs tremble a little from the cold. But I'd almost rather sleep next to the fire instead of taking my chances next to him.

I bite my bottom lip and sit in the wooden chair.

"In a minute," I say. I'm trying to put it off. I start slowly unpinning my hair, letting it fall piece by piece over my back. I unbraid it and it's finally free. I feel the tightness in my scalp give way as I run my fingers through it a couple of times. I grab the brush and carefully groom the ends, working my way around until I can run the brush from scalp to end without catching it in a tangle. I gather the loose strands and gently seperate them from my hair, dropping them on the ground before rising again and putting out the light.

I'm thankful he cannot see me now. I take a couple of deep silent breaths and slide silently between the blankets. I manage to wrap one entirely around my body, to seperate myself from him. I'm almost perched on the edge of the cot.

I'm thinkin' I should go sleep in my own tent. Be a whole lot warmer sleepin' by myself.

Watchin' her undress and brush out her hair has me hard as a rock. Sure would be somethin' to get to see that every night. Although the obvious seperation Ashe desires takes the starch out of it. I guess I was half hopin' she would eat me for supper or somethin'.

I reach out and roll her towards me, away from the very edge of the cot.

"You know I won't make you do anything you don't want to, don't you?" I say, "If you want, I can go sleep in my own tent."

"You get mad at me for things I can't control, it's just not very fair," I whisper, half of me screaming to take him, "I'm just trying to do the right thing."

I'm angry with myself too, for being so unlike me. I felt like I was turning into someone else. The rules I had lived by meant nothing now, everything had changed. As much as I didn't mind watching the world change, I wasn't coping very well with the change in myself.

It was temporary, I kept repeating in my head. It hurt like hell trying to hold onto that feeling of indifference.

"I'm sorry for gettin' mad and upsetting you," I say quietly back, "I've just never met a woman like you before. You being a hellspawn demon and all." "This is all new to me too."

I manage to seperate her from her blanket enough to feel the heat from her body and snuggle up against her hip. Tryin' to be a gentleman and will my cock to do the same but it only half listens.

"You may also find life is not fair. There are tens of thousands of dead men buried across this country and a whole people in slavery who will attest to that. All we can do is try do the right thing."

Which gets me wonderin'. What is the right thing?

"Gettin' this soul out of you." I ask, gently, "That's what you want?" "To go back to what you was before. A murderin' soulless hellspawn demon preying on unsuspectin' and innocent folk."

"You might want to think about givin' this soul thing a try. As unfair as life is, I bet you would get more enjoyment and appreciation from even the simple things in life than you ever did as a soulless creature."

My hand moves to and starts to wander on her body.

There he's done it, asking me the question I don't know how to answer. I lie, hoping he can't see through it, because I just dont know anymore.

"Yes, I don't like being in so much pain all the time," I press close to him, burying my head against his chest, "I don't know how you do it."

My body is responsive to his touch and I feel my hunger getting stronger. I manage to control myself, just holding onto him is enough I tell myself. I have lived on much less for much longer. I can do this, I will make it through the night.

I adjust my legs and the nightshirt creeps up my thighs, exposing warm alabaster skin. I resist the urge to take control to get what I want.

Her nipple hardens under my hand as I fondle Ashe's heavy breast through her thin night shirt. I can feel her bare thighs against mine, the touch makin' my cock fully hard. As she snuggles against me, my hand moves down to the raised hem of her long shirt.

"Sorry to say, Ashe but your new conscience is probably carrying a whole lot more guilt than most folk," I reply, as my hand moves to her ass cheek.

Her night shirt comes up with my hand and bunches up over her hip. I let my fingers play across and down her shapely hip to her groin. Lightly my hand begins to caress her pussy. Her body's response wets my fingers.

"I've killed ninety-five men," I continue, "Sorry, ninety-four. The last one was yours. I just finished him off for you."

"And all mine been Rebs killed in the war. They all had it comin'."

The death face of that young Reb from last night springs to mind.

"I guess we all got it comin' in some way or another," I whisper as I slip a finger inside her.

I can only just focus on the words he's saying because everything else he is doing is so distracting.

As his finger slides into me I sigh and grab hold of his fully engorged cock. I didn't notice last night how big it was but I do now, no wonder he felt so good inside me. I kiss the warm skin of his chest near my mouth and inhale raggedly. My hips move of their own accord, begging him for more.

I wonder if it will be like this every night, there's an appeal to that I admit.

The dripping from his member wets my hand, I use my thumb to softly spread it over the head before drawing my hand down his shaft to the base. I wonder how long he will let me do this to him. He wasn't very patient last night.

I kiss him again, letting my mouth wander close to his nipple before pulling back to look in his eyes.

The feel of her hand on my cock is great. I do like a girl's hands on it. I moan and my toes curl when she plays with the head. Also like the way she fucks back against my finger. Cupping her groin, I fuck my finger in and out of Ashe's ever wetter pussy. Her movements rub her clit against the palm of my hand.

When she raises her face to look at me, I slip another finger inside her and increase the pressure of my palm on her clit. My other hand goes to the back of her head. I lean down to kiss her but still must pull her up and towards me by the back of her head and pussy a little bit anyways.

I kiss her hard as she reacts to my hands on and in her.