42 — A Special Place in Hell

The so-called prince of this kingdom; that's what I was.

The pampered heir to a rich and powerful empire. A pretty boy with a soft smile. A frail creature whose weakness called to all sorts of beasts.

'Allure and caution are synonymous here. Love can hurt you. Love can kill you.'

It certainly tried once, I mused as I briefly thought of Calista. 

Ah, OG Damien, what did you do in your short time to warrant that situation.

Not that I was treading a different path, because even as I followed my aunt out of the living room, down the hallway, up the stairs, towards her room, I felt like an anvil was about to land squarely on my face—though that might've been Freya's ass, which was practically hitting my face.

I could see Iris peeking at us curiously from the side before slinking away. She was cute like a cat sometimes, that one.

Once the door was closed behind me, I looked at Freya expectantly.

"......" She looked a bit awkward and a lot hesitant as she fiddled with her hair. "How are you doing, Damien?"

Ah, the classic small talk.

"I'm okay, I suppose."

"Hmm. Just... okay?"

I gave her a deadpan look, not intending to waste my energy explaining the inner machinations of my state of mind, not when my own mind didn't even have a handle over what it felt—I was still quite in a state of shock over what I've heard. 

"Mentally and physically fine. Emotionally stable. Outwardly normal." I grinned. 

Couldn't show weakness here. 

Freya let a giggle slip out at my curt replies and hummed.

She was acting unlike her usual self, but I attributed it to nerves. There could only be a reason why Freya had me follow her into her room, which, by the way, was the first time I ever even entered there, as far as my memories were concerned.

The room, despite being of an older interior design, had a certain touch of sophistication and regalness. A queen sized bed, probably made of some exotic wood, was draped with a sumptuous comforter decorated with swirling patterns. There was a carpet. A chandelier of some sorts, probably a variant I couldn't even name. The latest TV model sitting above the fireplace in front of the bed. And a walk-in closet to my right.

"Ahem, let's sit."

And so we did, sitting side by side on the bed, looking quite vacantly at the space ahead of us. The whole ordeal was uncomfortable and uncharacteristically somber.

Reminded me of those TV series where two teenagers would awkwardly sit on the bed for an inadequate amount of time

I turned towards Freya. "Is it about what happened at the clinic...?" I nodded before waiting for her reply. "Yes, actually I wished to talk to you about it too."

There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes as she regarded me, then nodded."I... yes, it is." She wetted her lips and closed her eyes. "I can only imagine how confused you must have felt. I was worried, I admit, and I overstepped... terribly so."

I licked my lips, not finding the right words. Did I have to apologize, too? And say what? 'Sorry for getting a handjob and blowjob from my aunt? It won't happen again.'

"Is it going to be alright between us?" She inquired with a hint of worry, which had the potential to snowball into panic. "Do you hate me?"

"No, I don't." I didn't miss a beat, and I could've never hated such a 'helpful' aunt, though from other women's perspective—and her own—she was definitely the equivalent of the creepy uncle who wanted the best for his niece. It was a matter of perspective. "Don't worry, I don't hold it against you. We are good."

My quick dismissal put her at ease, and a relieved sigh left her lips.

"That's good to hear." Freya placed a hand on her chest as she said that, then blinked, tilted her head, and studied me closely. "Damien, are you... are you really... I mean, do you really mean that? Or are you just saying that to placate me?"

"I meant it." I shook my head. "I really do. I'm not just saying it to make you feel better. You really did help me."

"Even with the... situation?"

"Especially with the situation." I corrected, staring her down. "I was going to do it regardless, and you helped me. I don't mind it, and I'm not uncomfortable with it."

It was strange to say it out loud. Not just because I was talking to my aunt about how I was okay with her having jacked and sucked me off, but also because it really wasn't a big deal to me. I didn't really see her as my aunt, so that helped. 

I had some misgivings about it in the beginning, but honestly, the pleasure overrode any moral quandaries my mind tried to impose.

I didn't want to make it a thing, that of fucking every relative of mine, especially if I could easily find a willing woman who wasn't related to me, but it was also not a hill I was going to die on.

"I'm g-glad... that's good to hear, Damien." Freya closed her eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. Then her eyes snapped back open. "Wait, actually, this isn't right... of course not." She was muttering to herself now. "Letting this go, so quickly? That wasn't how this should go."

I blinked, taken back. What did she expect?

A lifetime of awkward and forced conversations away from me. Or for me to never think about it. Maybe the complete fallout. Or, the most likely scenario she had conjured up, me finally breaking down about it and succumbing to lifelong trauma and self-imposed celibacy. Or even an even more plausible scenario of me holding this against her, or being too deeply scarred to even trust another woman when it came to intimacy.

Freya's gaze turned sharp. "That's... that's not the right way to look at it, I—" She found herself walking a thin, high wire of her own making. "Damien... is this how you'd normally handle sex, Damien? How could you—" Her mind gave a lurch.

And then I started to understand a little what she was so restless about, and she was looking and scrutinizing every movement and reaction that showed up on my face as she tried to come to a decision. What the right choice was.

Her lips were half parted, eyes widening.

The image of me in front of a wild crowd, of getting mobbed on the streets, of being passed around like a plaything for desperate women. It began dawning on her that it wasn't about what we did, it was about how easily I could potentially accept that sort of thing with other women. 

She was finally connecting the dots between my new progressive views on sexual openness and my supposed lack of proper wariness, making me a prime target for being eaten by any harlot she could think of. 

"Will you be so 'okay' when another woman—a stranger—asks for the same thing I asked? You'd let them just—?" Freya hissed. "Would you have said yes if, instead of me, it was one of those nurses, Damien?"

Well, I didn't really think much about it at the clinic, but if the nurse in question was a young, attractive nurse, well, who knew what could've happened there. I might've been tempted.

Still, I wasn't about to just say that, knowing how that would affect her. "No."

Freya's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You hesitated."

"What? No, I didn't. I said no."

"Yes, you did."

"Aunt..." I sighed. "I said no, and I meant no."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm not going to just fuck a random woman, especially if she's not attractive, and if I have no prior connection or relationship with her."

Freya's face twisted as though she were in pain. "I can't tell if you're lying to yourself, or trying to protect my feelings."

"Does it matter?"

"It does! To me!" She exclaimed. "I don't want you to just blindly accept a woman's offer and then get hurt."

"I can take care of myself." I frowned. "I won't be reckless."

I really hated that part of this world, as genuine as her concern was. They didn't take me seriously. They expected that a too firm grip would shatter the porcelain vase, that I were to be handled with extreme care. 

"Damien, this is not about being reckless! This is about your perception of sex, and your boundaries." Freya took my hands in hers, her grip firm. "You're too... trusting. Too... open."

I gently squeezed her hands back, as a measure of reassurance, and for comfort's sake. "So far my track record is being too open and too trusting to you, Aunt. Because you genuinely wanted to help me, unless I misinterpreted your intentions."

A rosy hue slowly dyed her cheeks as she chewed her lower lip. "No, it's okay because we're family, Damien. You know that I care and only wish the best for you."

"So it's okay to do those things with family, but not with strangers?" I curled an eyebrow, probably going a bit too far with my words, but I needed to drive home the fact that I didn't see the same disparity she did. "To me, that's just hypocritical. Either you believe it's wrong to do those things or you don't. Because, someday, I'll have to do those things with someone else..."

I could tell how much my last few words actually affected, as her grip on my too manly hands tightened painfully. 

​I held back a wince, because I'd never be caught lacking like that. 

Freya took a while to gather her thoughts and formulate her response. 

"Well... it's different."

"It is different, yes, but in my mind, the most important difference is that I know you. I trust you. And that's not something that a stranger would have, no matter how desperate they are for a man like me. I didn't think of calling a nurse back there, but I did call for you."

"You shouldn't have trusted me either..." Freya mumbled, looking down in shame. "I don't know what came over me."

"Too late for that." I chuckled, but it was also the truth. "It's done. I don't regret it."

This seemed to make her squirm in place. She looked back up at me with a conflicted expression. "I... really don't know what to say to that, dear."

"Then let's just let it be. You don't have to feel bad about it. I really am okay." I leaned back, out of her grasp, and stretched. "In fact, I actually enjoyed it... non-platonically, of course."

Well, way to go and just throw it out in the open. It wasn't necessarily a secret, since I clearly reciprocated her advances, but perhaps it was not the smartest way of dropping such information on her.

She gasped.

"Sorry, should I have not said that?"

I tilted my head.

"No, no, it's just..." Freya fanned herself with a hand, her gaze darting quickly to the side, back to me, then to the ceiling, and then back to me again. Her voice lowered. "Did you really?"

"I thought you realized that part already, Aunt..."

Didn't I offload quite the hefty cargo straight into her mouth?

There was a special place in hell for me, if I didn't take over someone else's body for a second time. 

"......"

It was quite interesting to see Freya like this, so lost, ashamed, and quite agitated. Still, I appreciated her candor. 

Unlike Calista, she seemed much more willing and ready to embrace her inner... impishness, and for a moment, I was actually beginning to see her in a completely different light.

"You… you made me feel good, too. Damien…" Freya's shoulders loosened up. "Much better than my di—I mean, much better than anything else."

My snicker turned into a laugh, that she shakily reciprocated. 

And so we sat there, shoulders shaking in laughter. 

Then she sighed.

We sat in comfortable silence. 

I thought it'd end there. We wouldn't talk about it anymore and go back to our previous relationship. 

However, it was quite clear that she still had something to say to me, so I straightened up and leaned in. 

Freya stared at me.

I stared right back at her.

"Damien... gosh, I can't believe we're having this conversation." She closed her eyes, scrunching up her face, before taking a deep breath and re-opening them. That coloration on her face intensified, as did the light in her eyes, the feverish hue, a glimmer of self-destruction—because all over again, I felt like the atmosphere shifted to what we had back in the donation center. 

If honey could truly drip from someone's eyes, then Freya were dripping anything but that kind of sweetness in this moment. If anything, it was sticky, murky, an unfathomable depth of still water. 

She blinked, and it was gone. 

Honey, this time. 

Oh. 

"Aunt?"

She took both my hands again. Held them tightly and against her lips. 

"What I'm about to... propose... please keep it to yourself. But... would you be willing to let me teach you..."

"Teach me..." I trailed off. 

"Sexual education."

She whispered.

"Oh."

Ohh.

Please consider supporting me on Patreon to get access to 7 advanced chapters of this story (and more to come) and others too.