Midnight Eternal (23 page)

The evening went fast, and before I knew it, I found myself standing center stage, eyes downcast, with my leash in Gabriel’s hand. The official Bocaj collaring ceremony was a lot more like a wedding than I’d thought, and he was, in a sense, “giving me away.” Oliver had changed into a simple, black silk robe and stood next to Andres.

He said a few words, and Gabriel handed the silver chain to Oliver. Even though I couldn’t see the end of it, I could sense that it was in his hand and felt more at ease immediately. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel safe with Gabriel, it was just that when I was with my Master, everything felt right. I heard Andres speak about responsibilities of Masters and submissives, and the responsibilities of the entire community. I listened to his words, but if I was being honest, most of it was a blur because I was so nervous. Focusing on my Master’s bare feet and the hem of his robe, I kept my eyes trained in place and tried to remain still, wanting to make him proud with my posture.   

“Oliver, do you take Rebecca, whom you refer to as butterfly, to be your submissive? Do you promise to offer her opportunities to please you, correct her when she makes mistakes, and guide her in the ways of a submissive?”

“I do.”

His voice was so strong and sure, and made my stomach turn somersaults. I barely realized that Andres had asked me a similar question. “Rebecca, do you take Oliver to be your Master? Do you promise to work diligently to please him, accept his punishments, and work toward bettering yourself as a submissive?”

“I do,” I whispered reverently, still not looking up.

“Oliver, what symbol do you offer Rebecca as a sign of your commitment?” Andres asked.

“I offer her this collar,” my Master said, and from the corner of my eye, I saw him pull my collar from his pocket. I wanted it back around my neck so badly.

“Rebecca, what do you offer your Master?” I had no idea what to say, but then I remembered what he had asked me for, and with my outfit and everything else, it all clicked.

“I offer him my body,” I said clearly.

“Good girl,” my Master whispered. His hand reached out and tugged lightly on the ribbon that lay between my breasts. His one pull released the knot, which seemed to have a domino effect in releasing all of the others. Within seconds, I was standing nude in a pool of white ribbon, wearing only my silver heels.

“Kneel,” he said, softly but sternly.

Instantly, I was on my knees. My Master reached forward and clasped my collar around my neck, kissed my forehead, and whispered, “Mine,” so softly I was sure only I could hear. The chorus of “awwws” from the crowd told me otherwise.

“Congratulations, Oliver and Rebecca,” Andres said.

“Thank you,” my Master replied. “And thank you all for coming and supporting us. I know that this is when there is a traditional consummation of the collar, and there will be, but I’d like to explain a bit first. As I’m sure you all know, my butterfly was not born Bocaj, but had been living with many of the Bocaj characteristics. Last Sunday, while making love, I bit her and injected her with my toxin, causing her to undergo permanent genetic transformation. She is now officially a Bocaj.” There was a loud applause and I couldn’t help but smile as my Master squeezed my hand. “I also have one more bit of news. A few weeks ago, while my butterfly was still human, fertility marks appeared on her body. Being her mate, I was powerless to resist, and butterfly, being a good girl, just as she’d vowed earlier, gave her body to me willingly. Though we didn’t know it was possible, a child was conceived, and has seemingly made it through the transformation, so I’d like to announce to you that my butterfly and I are expecting our first child.”

The applause was even louder that time, and my Master pulled me to my feet and wrapped me in his arms. “I love you, butterfly,” he whispered in my ear as words of congratulations were spoken all around us.

As my Master led me to a table set up in the center of the room to consummate our renewed commitment, I looked around nervously at those who had gathered. He removed his robe and stood before me in all of his gloriousness. His mating mark was moving, as was mine, making my entire body hum with need.

“Kneel, butterfly,” he said softly and stroked my cheek. Feeling all of the eyes on me as I knelt before him, I trembled slightly. He waited a moment. “Who do you kneel for?”

It seemed a silly question. “You, Master.”

“Good girl. And who is the only person you should be concerned about?”

“You, Master.”

“Good girl. Forget everyone here and concentrate only on me.”

I exhaled and the trembling stopped. “Yes, Master.” I forgot their eyes, and in that moment it was just him and me. It was like we were in our playroom or on the roof.

“Open,” he commanded, and of course I did. My reward was his delicious cock on my tongue. I no longer had trouble taking his length into my mouth. I’m sure there were other groans as my nose pressed to his abdomen, but his was the only one I cared about. His slow thrusts in and out, his caresses on my cheek, his fingers in my hair, his gentle words of encouragement had me proud to be serving him.

When the thrusting of his hips quickened and the tip of his cock swelled, I opened my throat and accepted his gift. He remained there for a few moments after he finished coming. “Such a good girl,” he praised me, “but I’m not done yet. Up on the table, on your hands and knees.”

I moved quickly into position. Looking straight ahead, I felt my Master’s hands on the back of my thighs, moving up to my ass. His fingers traced between my cheeks. “Which hole shall I use, my little one?” I knew it wasn’t a question for me.

His cock replaced his finger and moved back and forth, tracing around my puckered rosebud and then down between my moist slit. “I want to take that tight ass and show them all how obedient you are, but this pussy is just too good to pass up.”

His cock thrust forward and I groaned as he filled me completely. One of his hands snaked under my body and held me by my breast, while the other moved to my hair, pulling my head back slightly. “So good, butterfly,” he groaned as he started to move faster and thrust deeper.

With each movement, he brought me closer and closer to my own orgasm. I held off though, knowing that if I was good, he would likely give me permission. I was right; just before he came, he whispered in my ear, “If you love me, if you are mine, come for me, butterfly.” And I did. I squirted all over the bench as he filled me with his love, officially consummating our commitment to each other.

It felt as if he remained in me for an eternity, but eventually he withdrew. I hated the empty feeling, but he pulled me into his arms and kissed me, making me forget the loss immediately. “Thank you for serving me, butterfly,” he whispered against my lips. He held me in his arms while we said goodbye to his family—our family. My Master insisted on getting me home so that the baby and I could rest.

We spent the next two months adjusting to our life together as a Bocaj couple. There weren’t many differences. I was a bit more tired, but we’d moved the ultraviolet machine over and I used it daily to keep my energy up. We finished up our video game project and then I took time off from the company so that I could focus on the pregnancy.

Oliver and I spent hours in the playroom as Master and butterfly, but we also spent time as a couple in bed. We made love and talked endlessly. He told me stories about the history of the Bocaj, and taught me the intricacies of the species’ anatomy.

One afternoon, after making love in the sunlight streaming through our bedroom window, Oliver dipped his finger into a glass of ice water he had sitting next to the bed. “Did you know that our skin is a lot like the leaves of many of Earth’s trees?”

I shook my head. “How so?”

“Well, the leaves of trees change color when the weather gets cooler and so does our skin.” To demonstrate, he pulled his finger from the ice water and traced a path on my arm. A reddish brown line appeared where his finger had been. As my skin warmed back up, the line disappeared.

“That’s beautiful!” I exclaimed.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he said, looking at my stomach, drawing a small heart around my belly button. I giggled at the sensation and the sentiment.

He continued to draw on my body, creating hearts and butterflies on my stomach, legs, and breasts.

I dipped my own finger in the water and drew a happy face on his chest. “You make me so happy, Oliver.”

He cooled his finger again and wrote across my stomach. “I love you.”

I smiled and pulled him into a long kiss. “I love you, too,” I
murmured.

“You are my everything,” he said, kissing my nose. “You are my submissive.” He touched my collar. “My mate.” He touched my mark. “And the mother of my child,” he said, touching my belly. Using his finger, he drew a small heart and continued writing. I looked down and saw two words appear. “Marry me?”

“You are everything to me, Bec, will you be my wife?”

I could barely read the words through the tears that had welled up in my eyes. “You want to marry me, like as in a traditional human wedding ceremony?”

He smiled at me. “Yes, my love. I want to have you in every way. Besides, I’d like for every man to know that you’re taken, and while our community knows what this collar means, the rest of the world does not.”

Oliver dipped his finger in the ice water again to make it cold, and then took my hand in his. He drew a circle around my ring finger, creating a line that looked like a wedding band. Before it disappeared, he reached into the drawer of the nightstand and took out a small box. Opening it, he showed me a beautiful solitaire diamond ring. “So what do you say, Rebecca, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Oliver! Yes!” I exclaimed as he slipped the ring on my finger.

I kissed his lips. “Make love to me,” I moaned against his neck. “Let’s celebrate.”

“I’d love to, Babygirl,” Oliver said, standing up and moving to the window. He reached for the string and began pulling the curtains closed, blocking out the setting sun.

I looked at him curiously. “What are you doing?”

“Really, Bec? I’m about to make love to you. People could see in! Do you know what kind of
creepers
there are out there just waiting to gawk at you?”

I was about to burst out laughing, but the look of lust on his face when he turned around told me that his joking was over. He finished closing the curtains and made his way back to bed. Pulling me into his arms, he crushed my lips in a searing kiss and I knew that we were about to begin a marathon of lovemaking that would last weeks. It didn’t matter to me if we ever left; I had everything I needed right there, wrapped in my arms for the rest of eternity.

Master

Bec lay before me, her legs spread wide, pussy on display. Her lips were pressed tightly together as she attempted to manage the pain. I watched with pursed lips, as well, as Caleb slid two fingers into her pussy. Bec squeezed my hand hard, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain she was in or to tell me everything was alright. He’d examined her nearly weekly during the pregnancy, and when the internal exams started, I thought I’d rip off his fucking hand. As he pointed out, however, there was really no other way to do it, and he assured me that checking a pregnant woman’s cervix was as far from erotic as it could get for him.

“Nearly time,” he announced, making both of us sigh.

Though the pregnancy had been exhausting, Bec had made it through with flying colors. We’d had several ultrasounds, and while Caleb knew the gender the baby, the rest of us were only guessing. Gabriel insisted it was a boy while Caroline thought it was a girl, both claiming to have had prophecies even before Bec had gotten pregnant. The contradiction in gender was what had originally kept them from telling me about it, both believing that it was just wishful thinking on the part of parents.
 

When it was finally time to push, I’m not sure who was happier, Bec or myself. It turns out my father was right, it was a boy. I had a son, and while Bec wanted to name him after me, I suggested we name him after her father.
 

Matthew Gabriel Durant was one hundred percent Bocaj, right down to the small tattoo on his left ankle that was identical to the mating mark Bec and I shared.

Like all newborn Bocaj, he was hungry and needed sunlight. Bec and I were only too happy to oblige him, doting on him as he became the center of our world.

It wasn’t just
our
lives that began revolve around our new addition, it was the rest of my family’s, as well.  My parents were thrilled to become grandparents and begged to have him over for sleepovers, which Bec and I came to appreciate since it allowed us to continue our playtime together.

We all had so much fun with Matthew that, within the next three years, both Sydney and Payton had given birth to a girl and boy, respectively. What was even more surprising was that my parents decided that a two hundred year space between children was perfect, adding a fourth child, another boy, to the new generation.

We were thrilled that our children could grow up together, though it was something which would turn out to be quite a challenge over the next few decades, as the three boys were a bit wild. Nothing compared to Shane and Sydney’s daughter, however, who seemed to have the spunk and spirit of both her parents combined…tenfold.

Bec and I had two daughters and another son of our own over the next millennia, creating each with as much passion and love as our first. Every day we spent together we treated like a gift, appreciating and treasuring our time with each other and loved ones.

Though there were trials and turbulence, our lives were wonderful and we couldn’t have asked for anything more. Surrounded by our children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, we lived the remainder of our days in total bliss with each other.

Nearly two thousand years after the first night I’d called her Bec, I lay in the sun on a planet that was barely recognizable as Earth. Wrapped in each
other's arms as our life forces were leaving our bodies, we made love one final time.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better life, my Oliver,” Bec sighed, running her fingers around my mark.

“Nor I, my sweet Bec. You were the perfect wife, mate, and mother. You gave me wonderful children and more love than I could have ever dreamed of.” I stroked her face, now weathered with time, though I still saw the woman I’d first notice so long ago through her bedroom window.

Our bodies became one, sharing the love that we’d spent a lifetime cultivating, nurturing, growing. Reaching our climax together, my Bec whispered her final words, “I love you, my Oliver, my Master, my mate.”

Looking down at her as I prepared to join her momentarily, our life together flashed before my eyes. I kissed her lips one final time and whispered, “That was beautiful, butterfly.”