Read Online Corben's Thirst: The Thirst Within Part 1.5 by Johi Jenkins - Free Book Online

she thought was doing something wrong. The more she killed, the less she seemed to care when she killed. I never said anything again. Because as much as I hated to admit it, while I didn’t approve of taking a person’s life, I had to agree that deep down I also thought some people deserved to die.
     
    ***
     
    A year passed. I was twenty years old and my wife still looked seventeen, or even younger. But despite her young appearance, she was well-respected in our neighborhood. The people loved her and trusted her. Her “herbal remedies” were magical and could cure most illnesses. She was generous and selfless when it came to the town. She had a purpose and it fit her well.
    But she wasn’t truly happy.
    Even though it had been more than a year since the loss of Alexandra, Charlotte had never quite gotten over it. In fact, the more time that passed, the more apparent was the wound. Each time a new baby was born in the neighborhood she would briefly become either sad or irritable. She would cry at random times, and when I asked she would say something had reminded her of our lost baby.
    I didn’t know exactly when, but sometime later her sadness seemed to go away. It was replaced with an intense resolve. She started spending more time with her maid, Sara. Sara had remained Charlotte’s maid, and she dressed Charlotte and fixed her hair each evening. She did not know about Charlotte’s transformation and remained loyal to her mistress, proud to work for the one that the town called their savior. She would do anything for Charlotte.
    Anything , I found.
    Our third winter together was rather cold and desolate. One night towards its end, Charlotte hypnotized Sara and brought her to me.

7.             Replacement
     
    At first I had no idea what Charlotte was up to. Or rather, I had many ideas, but none of them turned out to be remotely close to the truth. It didn’t help that I was slightly inebriated. I had gone to bed a little tipsy from drinking brandy that she herself had poured for me—later it became clear to me why she had insisted on refilling my glass—and she had told me she would be with me in a moment. And she did—but when she came to bed, she wasn’t alone.
    She danced into our room wearing a thin robe that reached just below her knees. It had a low collar that had been left untied, giving me a partial, but tantalizing, view of her breasts. And right behind her, following her mistress’ movements as if in a trance, was Sara.
    Sara wore a garment even thinner my wife’s, and I could see her dark nipples through the sheer fabric. I looked away hastily. They approached the bed and Charlotte climbed on, followed by Sara, who looked like she was in a daze.
    “What is this?” I asked Charlotte.
    “Sara is here for your pleasure. Our pleasure,” she said against my neck. “All of her.”
    “No,” I whispered, protesting weakly.
    “Yes,” she insisted.
    “What is wrong with her?”
    “Nothing is wrong with her. Is there, dear Sara?”
    “Nothing is wrong, Master,” Sara said, sounding more aware than she appeared to be. And then she started lifting her gown over her head.
    “Sara!” I looked away from her naked body with some difficulty. “Charlotte, what are you doing? This is wrong.”
    “How?” Her voice was low and sultry. Slowly, she lifted her own gown off her body. My body responded despite my reservations, and I could feel the blood pumping to my groin. “There is nothing wrong with pleasure,” Charlotte continued. “As your wife it is my duty to fulfill your life with pleasure. And I, mon amour , am here to do just that.”
    She pulled Sara forward and caressed her face gently. She leaned in as if to whisper in Sara’s ear, but started kissing her instead, pressing her lips softly along the soft curve of her neck. One of her hands moved over Sara’s bare chest, cupping her breast briefly and continuing down. Sara leaned back into Charlotte’s other hand at her back;