Luciels Children

This story has no religious significance, it is not about religion, it's about love, sacrifice, and redemption. I'm not trying to foist my beliefs off on anyone, because I don't actually have any, this is just a story, one that it occurred to me might be appropriate for this time of year, so here it is. While I've played with certain beliefs and mythologies, they're not mine; they've just been used to provide a backdrop for the characters in this story.

My thanks to GrandTeton once again for his editing and guidance and assistance with the actual story, and once more making sure the punctuation is correct, and to Alun for reading it first and not hooting with laughter!

As always, if you liked it, please rate it, if you didn't, please tell me why; I welcome all comment (even the occasional scary one...) and if you want to email me, please don't forget to include your email address if you would like a reply.

Read, enjoy, and don't take it too seriously; it's just a story...

beachbum1958

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Jon Stewart woke with a start, the shreds of his dream trailing across his mind before dissipating; something about Nessa...and dad.

He turned his head to look at Nessa, fast asleep still, the morning sunlight not yet falling on her face to wake her like it had him. Even as he looked at her, drinking-in her features, the arch of her lip, the perfect double-curve of her eyebrows, and her rich chestnut hair spread in a fan across the pillow, her eyelids fluttered, the long dark eyelashes trembling, and a green glitter as she opened her eyes fully and smiled at him, her beautiful eyes catching him studying her.

"Hello Mister Wolf!" she murmured, her lips curving into her perfect smile, the smile that had captivated him all those years ago, and still worked its magic on him now, even after all this time.

"Hello Little Rabbit!" he grinned back, sliding closer to her to slip his arm over her, his fingertips skittering down her back until he could hold and gently squeeze her small, tight, firm little bottom. Nessa grinned at him, even as her own hand slid down his flank, massaging the muscle there before gently cupping his scrotum.

"Wasn't last night enough for you, you randy beast?" she grinned, squeezing him gently, "you kept me up half the night, you dirty, dirty boy!"

Jon pulled her closer, Nessa meeting him as they kissed, lips searching hungrily for lips as their tongues fenced and swirled together.

"Does that answer you, baby girl?" he grinned, his blue eyes shining with need for her. Nessa, no less needful, writhed against him, kissing him softly on his neck, under his chin, anywhere she could reach. Jon held her against him, grinning as she excited him further.

Jon played along, squeezing and pulling her buttocks apart, making her gasp and giggle against him as their lips once more met, sealing together while their tongues fought and fenced.

He felt himself growing hard again; the lithe young girl wriggling and grinding against him made sure of that. Nessa grinned as she felt him growing against her, his excitement obvious.

"Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just dying to fuck me?" she husked in his ear, her vulgarity making him grin even as her hands stroked him to aching hardness.

"You're a very rude girl. I think I should punish you!" he murmured in her ear, groaning as she squeezed and fisted him.

"Promises, promises!" she breathed, squeezing him hard enough to make him groan. "Are you going to beat me with this big stick, Mister Big Bad Wolf?" she whispered, pumping his cock even harder.

Jon trembled with equal parts lust and need as Nessa writhed against him, her nipples fat and solid atop her neat little breasts, burning into his chest as she pressed against him, telling him how excited she was.

"I know just how to punish you!" he growled, pulling her thighs apart and planting kisses on the soft inner part of her thighs.

"Oooohhh, no, Jon, don't, you know...ooohhh!" she quavered as he kissed her labia, his tongue-tip brushing the hood of her clitoris, making her gasp as a bolt of pleasure shot through her.

"Oh yes, do that again...!" she murmured, clenching her teeth as he did, more bursts of pleasure shooting through and through her, each better and more intense than the last. When he finally took her engorged clitoris between his lips and sucked, she screamed in ecstasy as her orgasm crackled through her like high-voltage electricity, her ears buzzing with the force of it, again and again as he continued to suckle at her.

His tongue rubbed and teased the sensitive, swollen little nub, making her shudder again and again with the pleasure roaring through her.

"Enough, Jonny, please, no more...!" she managed to gasp out, and when he raised his head to look into her eyes, she smiled at him.

"Your turn, Big Bad Wolf!" she murmured.

Jon slipped between her wide-spread thighs, Nessa holding him as she aimed him, then, as he slid into her, their mutual gasp of fulfilment. Jon took her behind her knees and draped her legs over his shoulders.

"Ready, Princess?" he whispered, and at her nod, began pumping into her, Nessa raising up to meet his thrusts, her flushed face, swollen lips, and dancing, jiggling little beasts exciting him even more as they pounded against each other, all thoughts of the outside world gone, nothing existing except the two of them as they fucked each other.

No-one could keep up that frenetic pace for long, and all too soon Jon could feel that sensation, that tingling in his balls and the pit of his stomach that told him he was near. Nessa also sensed it, and let herself go, orgasm once more crashing through, blanking all sensation except that of her man pounding himself into her.

As she tightened involuntarily around him, Jon could finally hold back no longer, roaring instead as climax took him, his ears popping from the release as long, endless, satisfying spurts of hot cream sprayed into her, filling her, her pussy rippling and squeezing around him, milking him, draining him dry.

Jon rolled over, taking her with him, holding her tight as the last tremors and ripples of her orgasm died away, leaving them both drained and warm with the languor of afterglow. At first they were content to lie there, Nessa drifting as she luxuriated in the arms of her Jonny, enjoying the feel of him still hard, still buried deep inside her,

After what could have been seconds, or many minutes later, she began slowly, rhythmically squeezing him, smiling slyly at him when he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What do you think you're doing, little girl?" he smiled, and Nessa squeezed him even harder.

"I want to play some more, Mister Wolf, I'm not done yet!" she grinned, nipping his chest as she wriggled on him. John shook his head in mock disapproval.

"You're such a naughty girl, I'd like to punish you some more, but it's late, we have to get up!"

Nessa pouted, and squeezed him even harder, but this time Jon smacked her bottom lightly and gently rolled her off him.

"Stop it, Ness, we can't, not again, mum will be here soon, you know she'll want to make up the bed again, cut it out!"

"You're no fun!" she grumped, then grinned as her eyes sparkled with mischief, opting instead to roll on top of him again and tickle him, the one thing he had no defences against.

As she tickled him, she glanced out of the window, and there he was, the way he was every day, standing and staring at the house, longing and loss written on his face. As always, she waved at him, hoping to catch his attention, but he never waved back; all he ever did was stare at the house from outside the fence, his eyes roving from one end of the house to the other and back again.

Jon stood up and held her to him as she gazed out of the window.

"Jon, why won't he come in? All he ever does is stand there and stare; he can come back if he wants, can't he?"

Jon sighed, his sudden exhalation tickling her ear.

"He can't come in here; he can't set foot here; there are laws stopping him doing that; he has to stay there. That was what was decided after everything that happened. Come away from the window, Ness, we can't do anything about it, and it does no good brooding on it."

Nessa turned and hugged him, her fingers gentle on his back as he turned her away from the window, deflecting her thoughts from things that could never be. As they hugged, he squeezed and massaged the firm flesh of her naked flanks, making her wriggle and giggle, until he suddenly poked his fingers into her sides, her main ticklish spots.

Nessa shrieked and giggled as she tore herself away from him, but he grabbed her again, tickling and kissing her, and things were just getting interesting when they heard their mother's bedroom door open, so they reluctantly pulled their clothes back on. Nessa just had time to pull the bed-covers back up before the door opened, so they soft-footed into their adjoining bathroom and slipped out of Nessa's room, flitting quietly down the stairs and into the dining room.

*

Breakfast was the usual Saturday morning: poached kippers, bacon, poached eggs and toast. Jon and Nessa both listened interestedly while their mother and Jemma, their younger sister, talked about university. Their sister was eighteen now, and she'd be going to uni at the end of summer, all the way up in Edinburgh, where she'd be studying medicine.

Jon and Nessa were inordinately proud of Jemma; they'd never made it to university, and now their baby sister was leaving the nest to study medicine at one of the best medical schools in the world. As they talked, one thing June, their mother said, caught them completely off guard.

"I'm really proud of you, Jem, getting into Edinburgh, and I was thinking; rather than saddle you with massive student debts, we could sell this place and get somewhere smaller, nearer to Edinburgh, and use the difference to offset your fees. I know what this place is worth. If we sold it right now, we can buy a place in the Midlands and still have more than enough to take care of all your fees and expenses for the full five years; it would be a shorter journey for you to come home as well. What do you think?"

Jon and Nessa stared at each other; move? To the Midlands? Now wait a minute...

Jemma looked blankly at her mother, then shook her head firmly.

"No, mummy, please don't sell this place, this is home, everything's here, daddy, Jonny and Ness, you; please, I'll manage, I promise! Just promise me you won't leave here..."

Jemma put down her mug of tea and stared at her mother, tears already brimming in her clear green eyes, so much like her mother's, like Nessa's.

"This is our home, mum; this is where we all grew up. It doesn't matter what happened here. This is where I'll always want to come back to, this is my home, please don't give it to strangers!"

She started crying, and June spent the next few minutes soothing her and reassuring her that it was just a thought, not any kind of intention, but if she was sure, then they'd stay put.

Jon and Nessa both heaved a sigh of relief, making June turn her head and look straight at them, a puzzled frown passing across her face before going back to comforting Jemma.

"I'm sorry, Jem, I didn't realise you were so attached to this place; I just thought, a new life, a new start, away from...everything..."

Jemma shook her head emphatically.

"No mum, everyone I love, they're right here, you, Jonny, Ness, daddy, too, he's still here, please don't do this, promise me...!"

She collapsed weeping into her mother's arms, while June calmed her and stroked her hair.

"Whatever you want, baby, if you're sure, then that's what we'll do. Don't cry, baby, we're not leaving here..."

June took her youngest daughter up to her room, then, when she was satisfied the storm was over, came back down and started clearing away the breakfast things. Saturday was June's shopping day, so once breakfast was done, she would take the car and drive into Uckfield from the small village in East Sussex the family lived in and stock-up for the week. Today was no different, so Jon and Nessa slid into the back seat to accompany their mother.

June spent a pleasant morning passing the time of day in the various small grocers' she used, preferring to shop locally rather than use the giant supermarket chains, so Ness and Jon sat and waited in the car, knowing how long their mother could take when she wasn't in a rush.

Eventually June appeared with a couple of bulging carrier bags which she dumped in the rear of the blue Renault Laguna estate car, and made ready to drive home.

"Oh damn!"she muttered, and jumped out again, hurrying over to the florist across the road and returning with three posies of bright summer flowers, then started the engine. However, instead of heading home, she took the A272, eventually pulling into Walstead Cemetery, stopping near two small, matching white headstones. She got out of the car, taking two bunches of flowers with her.

"Hello my darlings!" she murmured, laying one bunch on each stone while she rooted the dead flowers out from the flower-holders on each grave. The names were deeply etched in the stone, but beginning to weather and blur:

'Jonathan Kier Stewart 18 April 1983- 17 June 2005', and:

'Vanessa Merry Stewart 6 June 1985- 17 June 2005'

June busied herself arranging the new bunches of flowers to her satisfaction in the little ceramic flower-holders, brushing leaves and twigs from the graves, tears running down her cheeks as she did so.

Nessa always wanted to hug her mother at these times, to try and drain some of the grief and distress from her, but it was forbidden; no touching the living, no interacting in any way; this was the price they paid for being allowed to remain near their loved ones, and it was times like this that she regretted her choice, but that was the choice she'd made; do this, and be with her Jonny, or move on and find out what came next.

Jonny had made his choice with no hesitation; wherever Nessa was, that was where he would be too, always and forever. His mother's grief tore at him, but he understood and accepted the price he had to pay to stay here with his precious Nessa.

June knelt on the warm grass between the two graves, and through her tears told her two oldest children that their sister was going to medical school, and that she loved and missed them every day. After a while alone with her thoughts, she stood up and dusted herself off, then picked her way through the ranks of headstones and grave kerbs until she came to another simple white stone, tucked away alone against the wall in the municipal section of the graveyard, unconsecrated ground. The name carved there was also deeply etched but starting to show weathering;

'Richard Kier Stewart 22 December 1961-17 June 2005'

Once again, June busied herself cleaning the flower-holder, and arranging the new flowers, tears running down her face as she tidied her husband's unconsecrated grave, the grave of a suicide. When she finished, she knelt back, steadying herself on the weathered white stone.

"Why, Ritchie? They were our babies! No matter what they were doing, they didn't deserve that; now they're gone, and you're gone, everything's in pieces, because you couldn't stop yourself! I love you so much Ritchie, but I hate you; you took my babies from me, you didn't have to, there were other ways, but you did that to them, and then you did this to yourself; you knew what the church says, but you did this, and even when this is all over, I'll never see you again. Why, Ritchie, why did you have to kill them?"

Nessa stood back a ways, crying along with her mother, her hand gripping Jon's tight as their mother's emotions gusted over them, watching helplessly as June wept for the man who'd killed them both when he found them together.

Both Jon and Nessa knew he hadn't meant to; the shotgun wasn't even supposed to be loaded; he was just trying to scare them, but it had gone off, and when he'd seen what he'd done, he'd turned it on himself. And now he was lost to them forever; there was no absolution for what he'd done to himself; even the church he'd loved had rejected him because he'd taken his own life.

Every day, they could see him, standing outside the fence, unable to see them, hear them, interact with them, doomed to forever stand alone outside the place where he'd committed the one unforgivable sin.

Jon and Nessa had forgiven their father; his crime had been inadvertent, his remorse immediate and overwhelming, but he had taken his own life, and their forgiveness was immaterial; there was only one fate for suicides.

Nessa was still unaware of her father's fate, or the true extent of his punishment; Jon had asked that it be kept from her. Otherwise her guilt would cripple her, knowing that their actions had brought about this about.

And so, when they left this place, Nessa would forget again what she'd seen here, that her father lay in unconsecrated ground because of what he'd done, and that he was forever lost to them. So Nessa fretted constantly about why their father stood in plain view, yet never acknowledged her, never even looked at her.

The drive home was, as always, sombre and sad; June had loved her family deeply, and still loved them all, despite what had happened, and her weekly visit to the graveyard was one of the high-points of her week, once the rush of remembered sorrow had died away. She was convinced her two eldest children were nearby, too; odd sounds at night, things misplaced or missing altogether, to turn up suddenly somewhere unexpected, the sense of their presence she sometimes felt, the faint traces of Nessa's favourite perfume at odd intervals, all combined to convince her that her children were near.

Once home, June swung into her normal Saturday routine: cooking lunch, gardening until late afternoon, then starting dinner. Jon and Nessa followed her around, taking as much of her presence as they were allowed, and being as much a part of the family as they could, while Jemma did her thing with her friends.

Nessa preferred to sit in the Rose Arbour, her favourite spot since childhood, leaning against Jon as they watched their mother garden. June could feel eyes on her, if her frequent glances at the Rose Arbour were anything to go by, but Jon and Nessa knew she couldn't see them. For some reason, they could only leave the house if their mother did, not Jemma, so they did what they always did: roamed around their home, watching their sister grow from small child to confident teenager, and staying as close to their mother as the rules allowed.

That evening, however, as Nessa looked out of the window at their father, once again staring at the house, she made a decision; if he couldn't come to her, then she would go to him and tell him that she loved and missed him, and that he could come in, his family still loved him. She told Jon, but he just looked sadly at her.

"It won't work, Ness, believe me; I've tried, but I suppose you need to find out for yourself. I'll wait for you here. I know how this goes, Princess, I don't need to see it again..."

Nessa slipped out of the house and walked towards where her father was standing, but something was wrong; no matter how long she walked, he was always the same distance away from her; the path to the fence was only a few yards long, and yet as long as she walked, she was no nearer the fence, and her father had made no sign that he knew she was near; he stared and stared at the house, pain and loss plain on his face, but she couldn't approach him, she couldn't comfort him. Finally, she gave up, sinking to her knees in defeat, tears on her cheeks at the realisation her father was forever beyond her reach.