The Visitor Pt. 1 [Fictional] [DarkErotica]

“Caroline, this is…” Mama’s voice trailed as her cornflower blue eyes centered on the strange man sitting across the kitchen table.

“Please, call me Mr. Stygian.” The man said in a low, velvety voice.

His hair was the color of silver, hanging down to his shoulders and his eyes reminded her of the skies right before a bad storm. He wore an exquisite black suit that hugged his frame like a second skin, revealing a lithe, slender frame beneath.

The man appeared to be in quite good physical shape, despite appearing to be in his fifties.

His eyes were so intensely focused on Caroline that she couldn’t help but to shift uncomfortably in her chair and the ghost of a smirk pulling at the corners of his plush, pale lips was not lost on her. There was a certain, and disconcerting, electricity emanating from the strange man and Caroline could feel it creeping across her skin and trailing along her spine.

Something was off about the stranger, but Caroline couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Mr. Stygian is gonna be stayin’ with us for a little while, so I want you to help make him feel welcome in our home.” The way she spoke gave away her unease.

It seemed that Mama was just as unnerved by their unusual visitor.

A breath caught in Caroline’s throat at the thought of sharing the house with this man, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Her instincts were telling her that danger was looming closely – a deep-rooted primal fear that could only be triggered by a long forgotten threat. It told her that there was a predator nearby and it was more than obvious to her just who that threat was.

“Do not be afraid of me, child.” The man cooed softly, as if speaking to an adolescent. “I have not come to harm you.”

Caroline noticed the tremor in Mama’s hands – the panicked look in her eyes as they darted back and forth. She noticed the way her tongue flicked between her dry lips every few seconds, as if she wanted to speak but thought better of it. Nothing scared Mama, so if Mr. Stygian made her feel so on edge, then she knew he could not possibly represent anything good.

“I’m not a child.” She heard herself say and instantly wished she could suck the words back into her mouth.

The man’s lips crept up into a smile and there was a strange glimmer in his stormy eyes. He seemed to size her up then, his eyes studying her and probing into the deepest parts of her, stirring awake all of her darkest thoughts and desires. It made her squirm in her seat, which only seemed to make his grin widen.

“Of course not.” He drew slowly, his voice flowing like smooth honey.

“Caroline!” Mama huffed, her eyes wide with what looked like fear. “Apologize to Mr. Stygian at once!”

The man held his hand up, his eyes never leaving Caroline. Mama fell silent at the simple gesture, swaying on her feet as if she wanted to swoop in and shelter her daughter but was afraid to draw any more attention to herself.

“No need. She is correct, after all. The girl is no longer a child.” The way his eyes swept over her made her stomach tighten in knots, reminding her of a hungry lion ready to devour its prey.

And she was on the menu.

“Yes, yes.” He breathed, mostly to himself. “The girl is not a child, indeed.” He licked his lips then, his tongue redder than it should have been, starkly contrasting against the pallor of his skin.

A tingle ran along her spine, like a cold and spindly finger lightly grazing her flesh. Her throat felt suddenly dry and a flash of warmth spread beneath her skin and through her cheeks and she could tell by the way the man grinned that he could see the blush blossoming in her face.

“Y-you should go get washed up and ready for dinner.” Mama suddenly interjected. “Your daddy is gonna be home soon and I still need to get the table set. Go now, Caroline.” She waved her away, desperate to remove her from the smothering presence of the strange visitor.

Caroline stared back at the man for a moment longer before finally peeling away from the chair and leaving the room. As she made her way up the stairs and to her room, she couldn’t help but hope that Mr. Stygian’s stay would be short lived.

By the time she returned downstairs, Daddy was sitting across the table from the stranger, his fingers drumming nervously against the table top and a glass of whisky was sitting before him. Daddy hardly drank, only for certain occasions or when he was high-strung and stressed. His demeanor was tense, his muscles tight and rigid.

Plates were set out in front of each chair and Mama appeared to be making some finishing touches on the food. Caroline swept into the room and felt her heart stutter as Mr. Stygian’s eyes immediately fell on her, that hungry look flashing like lightning behind his stormy irises.

Daddy turned to see what the man was looking at, his face falling upon the sight of her and his skin becoming an ashy white as if he’d seen a ghost. She didn’t like how her parents were acting around the stranger – a visceral fear that pulsed through the room so tangible that if she reached out, she could touch it.

“Caroline, so nice of you to join us again.” Mr. Stygian spoke in that smooth, velvety tone.

It betrayed the threat of danger that lurked beneath his skin – hiding in the shadows of his terrifyingly predatory eyes. They seemed to peel back each layer of her skin, exposing the deepest, most innermost and sacred parts of her being. She felt oddly naked beneath his unwavering stare.

Caroline took one of the empty seats, forced to sit beside the man regardless of choice. Her eyes met Daddy’s gaze, the worry within them stunning her into terrified silence. They stared at one another for what felt like eons, stirred back to reality when Mama started putting food onto the table.

She’d made a pot roast, surrounded by slow cooked potatoes and carrots and the smell that wafted from the dish made Caroline’s mouth water and her stomach begin to demand its fill. Mama added a plate of freshly baked dinner rolls and a large bowl of salad before claiming the seat across from her daughter.

Their eyes met and she could have sworn they were rimmed with red as if she’d been crying.

“Shall we say grace?” Mama asked, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke, her eyes settling on the stranger as if she were asking his permission.

He gave a single nod, placing his hand on the table with his palm facing upward. She stared down at it for a long moment before slowly placing her hand in his, her other hand grasping Daddy’s as if she were seeking comfort from his touch, as if he could protect her.

Caroline felt Daddy’s hand slip into hers, squeezing it as if he were hoping to reassure her that she was still safe. In her periphery, she could see Mr. Stygian place his free hand atop the table, same as he’d done for Mama, with his palm facing up.

Their eyes met and she could see a glimmer flash in his, as if he were daring her flesh to meet his. She was reluctant, afraid that he’d somehow devour her with nothing more than a simple touch. That he’d swallow her whole and trap her within the dark shadows that danced behind his irises.

With bated breath, she placed her hand in his, letting out a yelp of surprise as a surge of electricity pulsed through her fingertips, moving up her arm and travelling to the deepest part of her core before settling and making its home between her legs. She wanted to pull away from him but he’d clasped strong, slender fingers around her hand, locking it in place against his palm.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven,” Mama began, but Caroline was unable to take her eyes away from Mr. Stygian, who was staring back at her.

She couldn’t focus on the prayer being recited, entrapped by the storms that raged within the strange man’s eyes.

A ghost of a smirk played at the corners of his lips and his fingers lightly caressed her knuckles, sending more volts of electricity creeping along her skin. Her breath hitched in her throat and she felt an overwhelming and mounting sensation of arousal building between her thighs and she hadn’t the slightest clue as to why or where it was coming from.

It made her want to scream.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…”

Her heart was pounding within her chest, feeling as if it could explode or that it would. Fire licked beneath her skin and she felt a sweat begin to form against her palms and the back of her neck, her thighs rubbing together as she squirmed in her seat, unable to alleviate the swelling sensation of need and desire building in her center. There was something so terribly wrong with this strange visitor, something that Caroline was quickly realizing could not be explained by logic and reason.

“Amen.” Mama said.

“Amen.” Daddy repeated.

“Amen.” Mr. Stygian parroted, one corner of his mouth turning up in a self-satisfied smirk.

“A-amen.” Caroline stuttered, an intense rush of relief overcoming her as he finally released his grip on her hand, that strange electricity dissipating at the break in contact with his cool skin.

The budding ache between her legs stayed, however.

Later that night, Caroline laid in bed, watching with terrified eyes and shaky breath as shadows danced along her ceiling, creeping along her vision and twisting into slender fingers that reached out to caress her naked skin. She wanted so badly to reach between her legs and snuff out the embers that still burned red hot at her center, but she dared not.

Not when Mr. Stygian shared these walls with her. Not when he was the cause of the heat licking across the creamy flesh of her inner thighs.

After what felt like hours, she finally drifted to sleep.

She dreamt that night – dreamt in black and white, the only color the crimson red of her lips and the sultry red lace-trimmed nightdress she wore that was split on each side, exposing her bare thighs and a pair of pale hands gripping them tightly as they kept them pried apart. Airy moans slipped from her lips as the unseen stranger worked his mouth between her legs, stoking the fires that raged inside of her, pleading and begging to be sated and snuffed out.

Her head fell back against ink black pillows as her fingers clawed at dark sheets, balling them in her fists as the pressure continued to build until she could no longer contain it. A loud moan clawed its way out of her throat as she came undone, her body shaking and twitching as unspoken pleasures exploded within her, dazzling stars of the brightest white dancing across her vision.

The intensity of it all forced her awake, tearing her mind back to consciousness as wave after wave of sweet release rolled through her body. She was acutely aware that her sheets were damp beneath her and she quickly realized that dream had intertwined with reality, her body none the wiser and reacting accordingly to the tantalizing sensations she had been experiencing.

She’d had a wet dream, the first ever, and she felt the warm flush of shame spread across her cheeks.

There was nothing for her to do but to change her soiled night clothes and the sheets that bore the evidence of her shame, and so she did, replaying each moment of the dream over and over in her head. She’d never seen the stranger’s face but she had a gut wrenching feeling that she knew exactly who it was.

But she just couldn’t admit it to herself.

Nor did she want to.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/n4m5tr/the_visitor_pt_1_fictional_darkerotica