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The Ruined Abbe	By : pip Category: M through R > Quills Views: 2536 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Quills, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Six
If he had been subdued by the ultimate violation and his own betrayal of everything he believed and valued, if he had expected to be so, then it was over now. Anger bloomed in him as he looked at Sade. "Oh, come on!" he muttered in disgust, suddenly aware of what Sade expected of him. This was not part of their agreement. There had been an agreement. Coulmier was not so full of self-denial he would say he hadn't invited this calamity.
Two distinct avenues of emotion ran clearly within him. First was the shame, at what he had allowed, what they had done, and that he was now observed afterwards, his body on display while the Marquis' issue ran down the back of his legs and his fleshy sac, cooling on his skin and catching in the short hair that resided there. His chin was still wet with saliva, and he wiped at it indignantly.
Secondly, there was anger, fury even, and it was not at the Marquis, despite the merciless coupling and subsequent teasing. Was all he believed in so weak it could be swept aside this easily, by one such small act? And if it could, had his faith been worthy of loyalty at all? If he had damned himself forever with this one single lapse in the eyes of God, did it follow that his good deeds and hitherto good conduct were worthless? The fury he felt came from a crisis of faith, and he had the disconcerting sense that it was not his own faith in question and doubt, but rather God's.
"Well?" said the Marquis, breaking into his mostly incoherent thoughts, his voice hard and impatient. "Earn your freedom," he said, waiting, and then smirked a little.
Thus reminded, Coulmier looked down at himself, and then looked away across the floor of the cell where the key rested, out of his reach, and fianlly at Sade, lounging idly. He closed his eyes and let his free hand fall to his prick, which had grown soft again because he hadn't been paying proper attention. In vain he tried to rouse it, and himself, but it was impossible. Nothing about this situation held any excitement for him, and the sexual response was not something he had ever sought in himself before.
That was not to say he hadn't ever masturbated. Of course he had – he was a man – and it would have been inconceivable not to. But he had not done it except to be rid of it, as if flinging something distasteful out of his hands. Never had he tried to coax or encourage himself, and he simply could not seem to find the right way to go about it.
A short distance away, Sade sighed dramatically in evident disappointment, and it made him cringe, his self-consciousness intolerable, and his ambition of freedom further away. Coulmier stopped what he was doing and shook his head, defeated by it.
"Enough of this," he declared, then sat down against the wall and simply waited, determined in his refusal, especially when he had not agreed to it. Even after all that had transpired, and despite the chaos of his mind and soul, Coulmier was not a stupid man. The Marquis would set him free without drawing wider attention to his downfall, if only in the hope of having him return for more.
"You deny me?" said the Marquis, and Coulmier still could not quite meet his eyes.
"Haven't you taken enough for one day?" asked Coulmier, disconsolate at the turn of events and still struggling to come to terms with what it would mean for his future.
"Not nearly enough," said the Marquis, as if still expecting him to continue the attempt. When he made no move to do so, he heard Sade huff. "Very well then!" he announced, and instead of releasing Coulmier, he simply sat beside him and said, and did, nothing else.
It was cool in the cell, and the proximity was pleasant, their body heat mingling and exchanging even if they didn't touch. The scent of their coming together was not unpleasant either, as much as Coulmier might wish it so. There were worse odours in an asylum.
There was a familiar companionable silence between them for a few moments, and Coulmier was surprised to find it was still there. Whatever else he had ruined in the last hour or so, their friendship, it seemed, wasn't gone. In light of that, the easy atmosphere despite their interlude, and despite the fact that one of his arms was still chained to the wall, Coulmier felt encouraged to be candid.
"Have you ever had a dream so terrible that you were relieved to wake up," he began, "only to discover as the dream fades that it was kinder than reality?" Now he made eye contact again, and Sade flashed him a perceptive look.
"I dreamed I was condemned and beheaded in The Terror, only to wake up imprisoned here," he parried sardonically.
"What did I do wrong?" Coulmier mused to himself after a minute or so. "I try but I can't see it. I was angry, yes, but not to this extent." When he noticed the Marquis was listening to every word, he clarified: "Oh, I don't mean this," he said, shaking his head at recent events. "I mean the privation I see here, and with you."
"Oh, don't trouble yourself, Abbé," he said with a genuine if somewhat sombre smile. "There are far more powerful machinations at work here than your own influence. Let them at me. It shows their fear."
Of course, Coulmier was aware of that but it still didn't lessen his involvement. "You should stop calling me that, Marquis," he noted quietly. "It is no longer apt."
"But I won't stop. I like it." He paused, then winked. "Abbé." Coulmier smiled despite himself.
"I fear that they will execute you in the end." The turn and flow of their conversation from humour to gravity was still the same. It was somehow soothing.
"That is almost certain unless I cheat it somehow," Sade replied.
A thought occurred to Coulmier, and he couldn't help but voice it. "Why did you decide to put me through this then if you don't hold me to account, if not to avenge yourself?"
"Because you wished it, because I wished it," Sade said simply, patiently, "and because our wishes met in a place where we had the opportunity to indulge in them." He held Coulmier's gaze easily, as charismatic as he ever was. The natural light from the tiny barred window was fading in the evening, and the first flickers of torchlight were beginning to play over the walls and floor. "That is liberty, Abbé. It is not so very shocking, is it?"
"But how did you know I wished it?" he pursued, still troubled by something he could not define.
"You came back, again and again, and you didn't refuse me." While he spoke, he let one of his hands roam over Coulmier's chest, and instead of stopping him, in light of the conversation, Coulmier allowed it. "It would have been a simple matter, to say no. But you didn't." He shivered when Sade flicked a finger against one of his nipples. "Well, until now…" the Marquis suggested, dropping his eyes to Coulmier's soft member where it nestled in a dark shadow of curly hair.
Suddenly, without any kind of warning, Sade gripped the nipple he had been toying with between his finger and thumb, pinching it so cruelly that whatever Coulmier had planned to say in response came out as a wordless squeak of shocked pain. The agony almost lifted him clear from the floor and his free hand squeezed the Marquis' naked thigh, as if for mercy. But something else was prompted by the pain as well, and Sade smiled as he saw the swelling of Coulmier's rod. "Well, well…" he mused, as if he had found out some wonderful secret or confirmed some cherished belief.
With his other hand, he guided Coulmier to touch himself, which he did furiously, his hand a blur of frantic motion while Sade twisted the nipple still clamped between his fingers for encouragement. As before, it was not long before Coulmier spent himself, the strings of his essence jumping up freely and splashing on them both.
When it was done, the Marquis released Coulmier from that painful touch, and dipped his head to kiss him there, noting with apparent pleasure the gasp of additional discomfort the mere touch of his lips produced.
"On your next visit, bring the lubricant," he said, and Coulmier had the distinct impression he was looking forward to it already. "If you want it," he added wickedly. "And a small sharp knife." Coulmier looked at him in alarm, imagining crimson spiderlike words carved into Sade's skin.
"Oh, not for me!" he exclaimed. "We should be found out! No." He smiled, and it was not a comforting smile. "Not for me…" For him, Coulmier knew, and yet the idea of himself covered in the same bloody markings did not produce quite the same feeling of horror. It would be a simple matter, to say no, but he didn't.
"Release me, then," he said quickly, firmly, before his thoughts could continue any further down that road.
The dark was deepening fast, twilight nearly gone. Soon, checks on the cells would be made, and Sade wasted no time in fetching the key to oblige him. "Whatever you dream," he said as he unlocked the remaining manacle, "remember them for me and we'll re-enact the best ones, yes?"
Coulmier worked his arm to get some of the feeling back before buttoning up his long robe so that he was presentable again. "You are not without imagination and invention," he countered before he could stop himself, realising that he was already agreeing to further indiscretions with the Marquis.
"No, but I'd like to appreciate yours," Sade said, incorrigible as ever. Coulmier said nothing, but locked the Marquis back into the restraints so that no one would question why he was free. A previous conversation occurred to Coulmier then, back when everything had been so different, and it seemed entirely fitting to remind Sade of it now. He eyed the chains, and pulled on them as if to ensure they were solid and immovable and that Sade was his prisoner, then looked right into his eyes.
"Don't be so sure," he said meaningfully, and after a moment they both laughed.
As he turned to leave, the Marquis spoke from behind him. "Be back soon, Abbé. I sense that we are running out of time, but while we have it, we should definitely put it to its best use, yes?"
Troubled, he felt the frown on his face, and didn't turn around. "I have much to ponder and come to terms with, you must realise that."
"Then do it quickly, man," he said urgently. Coulmier nodded once and unlocked and opened the door, only this time leaving Sade's cell didn't feel like escape, it felt like loss.
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The Ruined Abbe