Message-ID: <53522asstr$1144969802@assm.asstr.org>
From: Shalon Wood <dstar@pele.cx>
Subject: {ASSM} Prudence, TX Population 1276 34 (Mff ff Mm rom)
Lines: 274
Date: Thu, 13 Apr 2006 19:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Standard disclaimers apply; this story may or may not contain, in any
given part, graphic depictions of lesbianism, homosexuality, group sex,
bdsm, underage (teen) sex, magic, occultism, violence, and biting 
sarcasm.  If you're underage, or if for any other reason it's illegal 
for you to read this, or you're disturbed by the content, please don't 
read it.

Archived at http://prudence.pele.cx, and we've got a web-forum at
http://playground.pele.cx/forums as well, for discussion of both
Prudence and our other stories. Send an email to velvet@pele.cx and
I'll add you to the mailing list to be notified when Prudence
updates. 

Comments *greatly* appreciated.

Enjoy,

Velvet
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A brief nap did little to dim Kristen's bright glow, but she was able
to pull most of it, at least, beneath the t-shirt she pulled on when
they woke up. With a bit of teasing and coaxing, she managed to
convince Kayla to join her in the kitchen. She boasted that she
intended to teach Kayla to cook, but this claim was met with fond
skepticism.

Meanwhile, Mark and Aaron retired to the living room to talk. Aaron happily
seated himself in the floor at Mark's feet -- Mark wasn't entirely
comfortable with that arrangement, but it so obviously made the boy happy,
and it seemed harmless enough, and he understood so little that he finally
decided to let it slide... his embarrassment was his problem, not Aaron's.

It turned out to be easier to adjust to than he thought it would. Before
too long, he wasn't even thinking about it as they talked. Aaron came from
a different background than anyone he'd ever met, and it was a strange,
dark, morbidly fascinating background at that. Aaron talked about things
like zombies and vampires as casually as another boy might discuss an
opposing football team, and he spoke of the likes and dislikes of gods as
if they were as real and relevant as any politician. And when he spoke of
his mother, it was with love, yes, but also a respect that bordered on
fear.  Mark quickly formed the impression that Lenita Ongala was a very,
very formidable woman. 

She also sounded like someone with the sort of knowledge he _needed_. So,
it seemed logical to ask Aaron if his mother might be willing to fly up to
Dallas and meet with them. 

"Um... She's really uncomfortable about leaving her territory," Aaron said
apologetically. "I've never seen her do it, actually. If I want to see her,
I have to go to her."

Mark frowned. Four round-trip tickets to New Orleans wouldn't be
_impossible_, but it would be difficult. Especially with the cost of a
hotel added in. Steven might would pay for it, though, if there was a
chance she could tell them something about Kristen. Still, it would be
complicated. He looked at Aaron thoughtfully. "How comfortable are you
talking to your mother about things?" he asked. "Could you bring yourself
to tell her about Kristen?"

"I'd be willing to introduce you, but..." Aaron hesitated. "I have to tell
you, she might not help. She can be really... touchy. Kinda eccentric. I
love her," he said hastily, "Of course. I mean, she _is_ my mother, but
she's not the easiest person in the world to get along with."

"If she's a voodoo priestess, I imagine not," Mark said. "What little I've
read implies that a strong will is incredibly necessary for that."

"Yeah, she's got that," Aaron agreed. "Stubborn as hell. But that means
when she gets a prejudice, she _keeps_ it, too. And... well... um... she
doesn't like most men."

"You mentioned she was a lesbian, didn't you? Would she actually judge me
before she met me?" Mark asked.

Aaron lowered his eyes. "Well, that depends on how much she picks up from
me," he said. "Sometimes its impossible to keep things from her. Especially
strong emotions."

"So she'd have problems with... us?" 

Aaron nodded sadly. "Not because you're male, or older, but because you...
because I want to submit to you, and you let me."

"She objects to that sort of thing?" Mark asked.

"Not exactly," Aaron said, looking embarrassed.

"What, then?"

Aaron squirmed, looking wretchedly uncomfortable, but answered anyway.
"Please don't think she's a bad person. She's not, really she's not. She's
just got this hang-up about dominant men. If you were a woman, she'd be
just thrilled."

Mark nodded slowly. "Bad experiences?"

"I really don't know," said Aaron with a shrug. "She doesn't talk about
things she doesn't want to."

"I see." Mark sighed. "Why don't you call her, and talk to her about things
first. Don't mention the dominant thing yet. See if she thinks she can help
us with Kristen?"

"I'll talk to her," Aaron said, "But she might _know_ everything without me
even mentioning it. I can't block her out if she wants in."

Mark wasn't entirely sure what the boy meant, but he got the impression it
was something beyond the normal motherly prying ability. "Well, if it gets
too bad, let me talk to her," he said.

Aaron nodded, looking relieved. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

Mark handed him the phone, and he stared at it a few seconds before
dialing.  He actually sounded scared when he spoke. "Mamá? Hi, it's Aaron."
 He swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am, I'm doing fine. No, Mamá, nothing is
wrong. No, Dad's fine, too. No, ma'am, I'm not at home right now. I...
I..." He blushed, then whispered meekly, "Yes, ma'am," before hurriedly
adding, "But that's now why I called, Mamá, I wanted to ask you-- Yes,
ma'am. I'm not sure, but there have been some very strong warnings here.
No, ma'am, I am sorry." He listened for a moment.

"Yes, but one of my friends... uh... she's not..." He flinched. "It's not
_like_ that! You don't understand, he really loves her. Yes, all right,
_them_, but..." He fell silent, listening with growing discomfort.

Finally, he spoke again. "No, ma'am. I've never seen anything like her.
Yes, ma'am, I can." He then proceeded to describe Kristen in detail. Mark
waited, ready to take the phone and answer question if needed. Eventually,
Aaron said, "I... I don't know. They'd have to decide that for themselves,
Mamá. Yes, ma'am, he is here." He went pale, then whispered, "Yes, ma'am,"
and looked up at Mark, holding out the phone. "She wants to talk to you."

Mark took the phone, nodding and looking at the boy sympathetically. "Why
don't you go help Kristen and Kayla?" he suggested, and Aaron fled with
great relief.

Mark spoke into the phone cautiously, "Hello?"

The voice on the phone was low and sultry, with a thick, French sounding
accent. "I am Lenita Ongala. What is your name?"

"My name is Mark Hasseran. You are Aaron's mother?"

"I am that, Mark Hasseran, among other things. What do _you_ define
yourself as?" she asked, and he got the distinct feeling that the answer to
that question was extremely important.

"Hmm," he said, "That's not an easy question, but I'll try to answer it.
Kristen's love and husband. Kayla's love and lover, perhaps someday to be
her husband, in spirit if not in law. Aaron's... Aaron's lover. Beyond
that, I can't say yet. I know that I could come to love him, and more.
There's a... place for him. I can't describe it any better than that; I
apologize. I don't have the right words to explain it." He paused, thinking
about how he'd felt when he'd seen Dirk holding on to Kristen. "Perhaps
something more. Perhaps Kristen's... protector. Guardian." He sighed. "All
that is true, as far as it goes, but... even that doesn't define me. But
it's a start."

"Odd that you define yourself in terms of other people," she said, "but say
nothing about _you_."

He thought for a moment. "True," he admitted, "but aren't we defined, in
large part, by those we love? As to me... I'm a teacher. Honestly, most of
the rest comes from that, just expressed in different ways."

There was a long, thoughtful silence from the other end, then finally she
said, "Very well. You have a question. Ask it."

He licked his lips, suppressing a relieved sigh. "Do you know what Kristen
is?" he asked, bluntly, "I've never heard of anything like her."

"I may have an idea, but it will take some research. She is what legends of
succubi are born of," she said. "Further than that, I will not say until I
know more."

Not as much as he'd hoped, but more than he'd expected. He nodded, unseen.
"Okay. There's something else..." He went on to describe the nightmares,
the ghost, and what had been going on in the area, ending with, "I can't
help but think the dreams are warnings, but I can't get any useful
information out of them. I just... don't have any experience with things
like this. From talking to Aaron I thought that maybe you would know more
than I possibly could."

"The last dream you describe, that could be a hint," she said. "You would
not hurt your young wife, but were your body possessed by another soul,
_it_ might. "

He shivered. "Oh gods. How do I prevent myself from being possessed?"

"You are in need of powerful protection, as my son suggested. I feel
that... some protection you already have, but I am not sure how readily it
will come to your hand, so it would be best to have more, as strong as
possible."

"What protection would that be?" he asked.

"Send to me pieces of yourself," she said, "A lock of hair, a drop of
blood, a photograph.  Things from each of you.	I will use them to aid my
divinations, and weave them into strong protections for you all."

Mark was quiet for a few moments. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to
trust her that much, not yet, but he didn't want to offend her, either.
Finally, he said, "I'll talk to the others. Aaron has your address, I
assume?"

"Of course," she said, her voice suddenly chilly. "I care deeply about my
son, Mark Hasseran. The fact that I recognize his father as the more
capable parent does not mean that I do not love him. Do not make the
mistake of assuming it does." The threat in her tone was unmistakable.

"Lenita, I'm not going to hurt him intentionally." He looked up, checking
to make sure Aaron was still out of earshot in the other room. "Do you know
what a life-bond is?"

"I do. I also know how rare a true one is," she said. "Are you presuming to
claim such a thing with my son?"

He sighed. "I don't know." He was silent for a bit, marshaling his
thoughts. "I have one with Kristen. Kayla recognized it, and told me that
there could only be one, but now Kristen and I have one with her. It's the
same sort of connection... once you see it, it's obvious, even if it's not
as strong yet. And, in between the... the threads that make up _us_, so to
speak, there's a space that it seems Aaron would fit into perfectly. Like
the space for a puzzle piece in a jigsaw puzzle. Does that make any sense?"


"No, but it is nevertheless intriguing." Her tone gave nothing away, no
trace of emotion. "I shall have to think on this. If you choose to trust
me, send the things, and we will see."

"It's not just my decision, you know," he said.

"You really think that?" she asked, sounding amused.

"Yes," he answered, soberly. "Or at least I'm trying to make sure they take
an active role in any decisions. I want them to be their own people, making
their own decisions."
 
"What an interesting experiment," she said. "Perhaps you can achieve it.
Let me speak with my child, now, Mark Hasseran."

"Of course," he agreed.

"Aaron!" he called, as he leaned back on the couch with a distinct feeling
of relief -- talking to Lenita, he decided, was rather like keeping an
incredibly beautiful, immensely valuable, but still quite poisonous snake;
it might be well worth the effort and danger, but when it came right down
to it, it could still kill you if you made the wrong move.

Aaron poked his head around the door. "Yessir?"

"Your mother wants to talk to you." Mark held out the phone with a
reassuring smile.

"Mamá? Yes, ma'am." Aaron smiled brightly, his whole face lighting up.
"Thank you! I love you, too, Mamá." He hung up, looking relieved. 

"We all need to talk," Mark said. "The girls still in the kitchen?"

Aaron smiled weakly. "She doesn't hate you. She'll help. Yes, sir, they're
trying to get the flour off."

Mark blinked, but headed for the kitchen to see for himself.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you like this, you might want to take a look at Strange Love, an
e-zine of sf/fantasy/paranormal erotica. The first issue is on sale
now for $2 at:

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Take a look!

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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