Devourer of Sins

DEVOURER OF SINS CHAPTER THREE (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply


A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Mad Queen of Plotbunnies (or is it queen of mad plotbunnies? LOL) is the impetus behind this one...her idea and all... :) Vampyre: yeah. Too bad about that last balloon... InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink are super shiny groovy discolicious people (I have no idea what came over me on that one) for archiving! Readers/my few reviewers: There are suspicious webbed footprints in my flowerbed... I think the ducks are spying on me... Thank you for the feedback so far, by the bye-it's very helpful! (I do a happy naked pagan dance in your honor...well, except for the naked part).

"But Professor, you me me double-booked!" Scott said with a trace of exasperation. "How can I do both the food pantry and the bell ringing at the same time?"
The Professor smiled thinly. "In light of your recent outbursts of temper when we gained new residents, I felt it best to remind you what it means to do unto others. You will work four days in the foontryntry and three as a bell ringer."
"But..." Scott was trying valiantly to control his temper and seeing red in more ways than one.
"Yes?" The Professor's raised brow dared him to speak. When Scott remained silent, the older man nodded. "That's what I thought. Now, the others are waiting...the food pantry opens in an hour and you need to be there early for orientation. Amara and Lance are waiting out front..."
Scott inhaled deeply and nodded in ascent. "Fine..." _Crazy old...damn it! Can't think too loud, can I? Just in case...this is fucking stupid. I don't have a temper problem. I am perfectly calm at all times. Most of the time. Okay, a good portion of the day I am calm. I'm just irritable because Jean's gone for so long...It's only a week, but come on! It's winter break! cou could've spent all sorts of time together... _
"Took long enough," Lance said through chattering teeth. A cold front had blown in the night before and snow was threatening.
"Who said you had to stand out in the cold? You could've sat in the nice, heated car..." Scott grumbled.
"Amara's bitching and I didn't feel like listening," Lance snapped. "I was this close to shaking her."
"I heard that!" came a strident voice from within the car.
"I shoulda made you stand outside...you're the one who can burst into flames!" Lance slid behind the steering wheel, ignoring Scott's glare of protest.
"Antiquis temporibus, nati tibi similes in rupibus ventosissimis exponebantur ad necem1" she muttered darkly.
"What did you say?" Lance snapped, pulling out of the gates.
"Vah! Denuone Latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur."2 Amara smiled to herself as Lance turned red in annoyance. _I love pissing him off...almost as good as sex. _

Nettie Crenshaw was a pleasant enough woman, for an absolute dictator. The Bayville Food Pantry was her domain and she ruled with an iron fist. "Which on of yo Sum Summers?" she snapped as soon as the three teenagers entered the drab-looking storefront.
Scott sighed. "That'd be me..."
"You blind, kid?"
"No...I just have sensitive eyes." _I'd be happy to show you...just stand a little more to the left... _
"Hmmm...I don't like people wearin' sunglasses indoors..." She stood on her tiptoes to peer into Scott's lens-covered eyes. "They prescription?"
"Yes. If I take them off, I'll blast a hole in anything I look at, including you," he deadpanned.
Lance snorted behind him and Nettie sent the lanky youth a disgusted look before returning her attention to Scott. Pressing her finger into his chest so hard that he knew a bruise would be there in the morning, Nettie said, "Smartasses. Every one of you is a smartass...I told that Professor coot that I don't cotton to kids..."
"Then we'll just be leaving," Amara said in her best princess voice. "Seeing as how we don't..._cotton _ ...to dictatorial bitches."
Lance and Scott sucked in their breath through their teeth. Nettie pushed Scott aside and advanced on Amara, narrowing her gaze as she closed the distance. Suddenly, she burst into hearty laughter. "I like you, girl! You remind me of me when I was young and stupid!" She clapped the Amara on the back and made her stumble before turning to the males. Her laughter suddenly snapping off like a switch had been thrown, she growled, "I don't like you two, though, so don't get any ideas...I don't need teenage boys panting after me jus' because they saw _The Graduate _ and think older womre ire into that sort of thing..." Swinging her ample hips wide and tossing her brassy braid over one shoulder, she jerked her head to indicate that they should follow her.
"No worries here, man," Lance mumbled to Scott. Amara grinned slyly at the two. "What are you smirking about? You're gonna have it easy!"
And have it easy she did. "Amanda,"
"Amara," said girl sna.
.
"Whatever. You and String Bean are gonna be back here in the receiving area. You keep an eye on him. We ain't got no volunteers comin' in until later in the week so he's gonna take donations when people bring 'em in and then he's gonna put 'em in their places on the shelves." She smiled broadly at Lance, her teeth nicotine stained between too-red lips. "You, Girly, are gonna make sure he don't goldbrick. Got it?"
"Oh, yeah...no problems," Amara smiled, winkin Lan Lance. He had a sinking feeling thhe whe was going to take her job very seriously...
"What about me?" Scott asked with some reluctance.
Nettie sucked on her tongue a moment, eyeing him assessingly. "Well, Shades, you an' me got us a project...My assistant up and quit on me last week an' I need help getting fliers and adverts together. Since you're too fine a gentleman to be here all week, you're gonna be my Man Friday for your four days here..."
Scott forced a smile. "Great."

Amara enjoyed power. She was not afraid to admit it. Nor was she ashamed. She sought it where she could find it, living up to the political training she had received in Nova Roma before her unfortunate egress. "You're doing it wrong," she said, voice tinged with bored imperiousness as Lance shoved a case of toilet paper onto a lower shelf.
"No, I'm not," he grunted, kicking the box for good measure.
"Paper goods on the top shelves," Amara reiterated for the fifth time in two hours. "Toilet paper is a paper good, is it not?"
"Princess, I am not lifting that box to the top shelf! If you want it up there so bad, you do it!" He was glowering down at her, his height difference making him have to bend his neck even as she tipped her face up.
"I'm not the one charged with heavy lifting, am I? Now, put it on the top shelf."
"
'
'Excuse me?"
"No." He crossed his arms and raised a brow.
"Lance, I'm not going to ask you nicely. You put it up there or I'll..."
"What? Slap me? Bite me? I really don't think this is the time for foreplay," he snorted.
Amara took a deep breath. "It's my lunch break. You can't go on b unt until I'm done."
"Wait a second..." Lance did not recall any such rule of the myriad Nettie had given them. "Who said..."
"Stand here at the desk so you can tell me if Nettie's about to come in," she said pulling Lance by the wrist. "Now, stand here until I'm done."
"Done with what? Oh!" As Lance spoke, Amara dropped to her knees and hid under the desk, pulling him forward slightly by his belt buckle. "Amara!"
"Shhh...If we get caught, I'm kicking your ass." Lance felt his face turn seven shades of red as Amara's sure fingers unzipped his jeans. He needed little encouragement, member stiffening as her fingers brushed against him. The desk reached just below waist level, more a workbench, really, doing very little to hid Amara's attentions. Lance thought about caring but decided not to as Amara's lips closed over the head of his arousal, flicking her tongue to catch the bead of moisture emerging there. He tightened his hands on the edge of the desk, swaying just slightly as took him further into her warm depths, stroking her tongue over his length and murmuring, sending vibrations of pleasure through his groin and stomach. Lance bit his lip to keep from moaning aloud as Amara used her hand in addition to her mouth, pumping at the base of her arousal even as she laved and sucked on the rest of his length. The tickle of her breath on his skin and the soft brush of her hair did him in. With a strangled cry, he hunched forward and struck his fist against the desk, Amara taking him into her throat as he erupted in orgasm, pouring hot ejaculate into her waiting mouth.
Amara pulled away after a moment, slowly, licking his softening length as she did so. Lance took several shaking breaths as she restored his clothing to its original state. Amara rose to her feet and said, "Now, will you work and stop bitching?"
"Uh-huh..." He could just stare at her as she brushed dust off her knees and smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her shirt.
"Hey, guys." Scott's voice preceded him into the room. He paused and looked from Amara to Lance and back again, the scent of sweat and arousal still thick in the air. "Um...I'm going to get some lunch. Either one of you want to come?"
"Lance already did."
"What?"
"She means I've already had something...but I could eat!" Lance snapped, glaring at Amara, his stern look dissolving into a smirk as she batted her eyelashes innocently.
"You know," she said, I think I could eat, too..." She took up her purse and followed the two males out of the small back room. "Lance, would you like to eat first tomorrow?" Scott never did figure out why his friend stumbled.

Kitty was hyperventilating. The body still lay partially exposed, insects starting to gather despite Kurt's best efforts at swatting them away from the poor child. Jean was gone with Simpson. Kitty's scream had brought the man running and the sight of the dead child made him bite back a curse. "It's a sick gesture from the local rebels. This is a politically unstable area, children. Some of these people do not appreciate ancient secrets being dug up. This," he gestured sharply, he mouth covered with a handkerchief ostensibly to prevent himself from being ill, "is typical of those twisted minds. They cut out the poor thing's heart, like a sacrifice to Tlaloc."
"W...who?" Kitty whimpered, clinging to Kurt for all she was worth.
"No mind... We have to go into town and call the authorities. Jean, come with me. Kurt and Kitty, I ask that you remain here and make sure this body is not moved. Compris?
"No!" Kitty and Kurt cried as one.
"Professor Simpson," Jean said, not able to face the man for fear of seeing the deceased child, so horribly displayed, "can't we all go? I don't want to leave my friends alone in the jungle..." _With killers on the loose. _
"No. Someone needs to stay here and make sure the camp is safe and the body is not moved." Simpson would not budge. Jean tried to scan him again and was met with a blockade. She only caught a whisp of anger before iron gates slammed shut.
"The camp was fine when you left it for so long to come get us," Kurt pointed out, voice shaking.
"I took great risk in doing that. See what happened when I left the camp?" Simpson practically shouted, kicking the floorboard completely aside and exposing the full length of the child. Kitty choked a cry and buried her face against Kurt's chest, her boyfriend tightening his arms around her and rumbling low in his throat, a growl too low to be heard but one that she certainly felt.
Jean forced herself to turn. "Can we...can we go in the morning? Please? I'll go with you but please can we go in the morning?" She felt like a hostage, forced to beg for her safety. For a horrifyinmentment, she was sure Simpson would insist on leaving then and there, in the dead of night, but he merely nodded curtly.
"At dawn, we leave. For tonight, we all sleep in the other hut."

Kitty and Kurt huddled outside the door of the morgue, as they had taken to calling the resting place of the child. "Kurt, I want to go home," Kitty whispered. "I don't like this man and I'm scared."
"Me, too, Liebe," he murmured. When they had awakened that morning, Simpson and Jean were already gone with no indication of when they w ret return. "Maybe we can get Jean to contact the Professor somehow, get us out of here...this is too creepy."
"I don't know if her telepathy can work this far away." Kitty huddled closer to Kurt, shaking despite the rising heat and humidity. The sky was streaked with purple and rich cerulean blue, the sun still below the tree tops but making it's presence felt. "What did he mean by Tlaloc last night?" Kitty asked after several minutes of silence.
"I'm not sure...I haven't heard the name but maybe it's some sort of a cult. He said sacrifice."
"Who would kill a child?" Tears streaked down Kitty's face and dripped off her chin. "A _child _ , Kurt!" She sobbed harshly and scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I want to go home!"
Kurt was feeling sick himself. He had forced breakfast down, consuming a great deal of the snacks Kitty had stowed in her bag as well as the breakfast that Simpson had left. He had forced Kitty to eat, despite her claims that she was not hungry, and was now glad he had. "Katzchen, I don't know how long Jean and Simpson are going to be gone, but if they aren't back by nightfall, we should start walking towards the town."
"We don't know how to get there..." she hiccoughed. "And I can't leave this baby here..."
"Baby? Schatz, he's at least six," Kurt started but Kitty's glare cut him off. "Simpson said the town was over the hill there...we just need to start walking that way and we'll find it.ere ere should be some lights or something you can see at night. Besides," he chanced a weak smile, "you're forgetting-I am rembly bly adept to moving around in the dark..."
Kitty sighed. "Still...I can't just leave this poor baby alone in the jungle...He's someone's son...if Simpson and Jean aren't back by nightfall....We'll see."
Kurt nodded. He had wanted to bury the child, as had Kitty, at least temporarily until the police came,givegive him some sense of decency. The fear of losing evidence in a murder investigation was the only thing that stopped them, though,ty'sty's fear of the child's killer going uncaught winning out over their squeamishness. Kurt rose and shut the door to the hut, shutting out the rising buzz of insects. "Come on, Katzchen. Let's go sit in the shade..."
"I can't leave him here..."
"Liebes, his sou at at peace. This is just his vessel...He can't feel. Now come, sit with me."
"You're handling this well," she sniffed, letting Kurt lead her to the other hut, situated under a spread of rich green foliage, perceptibly cooler than the other hut.
"Not really," he said softly. "I've wanted to throw up since last night. The only thing stopping me is the knowledge that I need to conserve what little calories I've been taking in. My body needs all the fuel it can get."
Kitty could not help a weak smile. "My poor Fuzzy. One Hell of a Christmas break, huh?"
"I really wish we could've gone to Germany...it's too bad that we have to wait until Spring break, huh?"
"Is it snowing there?" she asked quietly, desperate for anything to take her mind off the body across the clearing.
"Most likely...my family lives in the mountains, you know. It snows in Illinois, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. Snow, ice, hail, dogs and cats, living together, mass hysteria!"3 Kitty used the neck of her t-shirt to dry her eyes. "I used to build snowmen in the front yard every winter. We lived north of Chicago and got the cold winds off the lakes...I can remember an ice storm when I was in junior high. It got so cold it felt like your eyeballs froze in your face. We couldn't go to school...Lance came over because his folks were fighting again. He and I made this family of snowmen and he wanted to make a snow dog...we just couldn't figure out how to get it to stand. The poor thing kept falling over..." Kitty giggled at the memory. "Lance was a goofy kid."
"Sounds like it..." Kurt did not feel the pangs of jealousy he would have as little as a month ago. He knew he had nothing to fear, that jealousy only came from the fear of loss. "When Erika was a baby, during her first winter, Katja thought it would be a good idea to teach her to make snow angels. Erika already did the motions in her crib," Kurt mimicked making snow angels with his arms, making Kitty giggle again, "Katja, Anja and I snuck Erika out-Mama is very vigilant-and took her to this nice place down by the stream, where the ground was flat and the snow was thick. Would you believe we lost Erika in the snow?"
"No!"
Kurt nodded, making a face of remembered panic. "Katja put her down and she just...sank."
"Oh, no! Was she okay?" Kitty found herself interested in the story, the look into Kurt's past. She scooted closer, resting her head against his shoulder.
"Ja, ja...she giggled like mad, thought it was a great game! Katja had bundled her so well that the snow didn't seep into her clothes! For years afterwards, Burying Erika was our favorite winter game."
Kitty snickered and pressed a kiss to Kurt's ear. "Love, promise me you won't bury our children in snow."
"Oh, come on, Katzchen...it's fun! I even let Katja and Anja bury me once..." He kissed her in return, nipping her earlobe for good measure.
"But you're covered in fur," she said, running her hand down his bare leg for emphasis, "you're adapted to cold..."
"All the better to keep you warm in winter with, my dear," he purred, attacking her neck. Kitty squealed, forgetting for the moment about the body across the way, about the strangeness of Simpson and her worries about Jean being alone with him. Kurt's nibbling and tickles soon faded to soft kisses and sharp nips, accenting each sensitive spot on her neck with hot desire, shooting through to her groin. "Katzchen..."
"I'm all sweaty and gross..." she murmured, not doing much to fight him off.
"I don't care..." he answered, pushing the neck of her shirt aside to gain access to her collar bone.
Kitty sighed softly and tilted her head back, loving the feel of his lips and teeth on her skin. _I have no idea what I ever saw in anyone else... _ The feel of fur and sharp teeth and his tail sliding up and down her leg made Kitty revel in his differences, swearing to spend more time showing him just how much she loved his body when they got home and back to a normal bed. "Kurt," she murmured thickly, guiding his mouth to her breast, thinly covered by her shirt. She hated having to wear a bra and was glad to go without it in this heat, not caring that her breasts were not as pert as she would have liked as Kurt's mouth drew on her nipple, the feel of fabric mingling with his hot kiss rubbing across her sensitive flesh.
"Shhh..." he whispered, his breath sending chills down her spine as he moved back to her neck, kissing his mark there lightly, then moving to her mouth. They kissed deeply, Kitty winning control and softly laving his lower lip, taking it between her teeth and nipping gently before plundering the depths of his mouth with her tongue, drawing a moan from his throat. She found herself in his lap, straddling his legs with his growing bulge pressing against her soft center. His hands held tight to her hips, unwittingly pressing her most sensitive spot against his hardening erection. Kitty throw back her head in a rush of heady pleasure, not at her peak yet but approaching it. "I want you," he whispered, "God help me, I want you."
Kitty reached between them and freed him from his shorts, his member almost unbearably hot in the too-humid morning. With a small struggle, she pushed her shorts aside, exposing her womanhood to his length, sliding down several inches before pausing, taking a deep breath, and completing the journey. "So...deep..." she gasped. Indeed, he felt like he was deeper in her than he had ever been, owing to their position and her downward thrust. Kurt gurgled and inarticulate response and moved Kitty's hips with his hands, sending jolts of heat down her legs and across her back. She rocked her hips then, grinding against him imostmost pleasurable way as she did so, bracing herself against his shoulders and mewling softly in the back of her throat. Kurt's eyes were tightly shut, his breath coming in shallow pants as Kitty moved faster, rising and falling even as she rocked back and forth. In a rush of sparkling nerves, Kitty felt climax upon her. With an inarticulate cry of ecstatic pleasure, she clenched him deep inside her and released, her limbs becoming languid and boneless as her entire body shook from the force of her climax. Kurt was soon after, his tail stroking her breasts almost frantically as he held her down to the base of his shaft with an iron grasp. His hot seed filled her, making her acutely aware of their union. They remained in their position even as he shrank out of her, breathing heavily and sweating in the morning air.
As they murmured soft love words to each other, a figure moved in the jungle across the clearing, a woman with exotic eyes and dark hair, clad in a skirt of serpentine pattern and little else. "Mis niños, mi sacrificio...4"
1 In the good old days, children like you were left to perish on windswept crags.
2 Oh! Was I speaking Latin again? Silly me. It just slips out sometimes.
3 My favorite line from Ghostbusters...blatant rip off here.
4 My children, my sacrifice...