'Once it Was Done' is a work of adult fiction and contains sexually explicit material that some may find offensive. It is meant for persons over the age of 18 and is not suitable for children.
All characters contained within are purely fictional, any similarity of any character, event or place to any actual person, event or place, is purely coincidental. This story takes place in the fantasy world where disease and unwanted pregnancy are not an issue. In the real world they are very real threats and you should always protect yourself.
The author reserves all rights to this work. It may be freely distributed, posted and archived electronically only in its entirety including all header material. It may not be sold in whole or in any part, or as part of an electronic document, printed material, voice recording or any other manner without proper copyright clearances being obtained from the author.
What is betrayal?
I hate to see something beautiful, something I love, suffer. It makes me do things I normally wouldn't ever dream of doing - things that those naïve enough to trust me, would never suspect me capable of.
I wasn't concerned with being caught, hell, I wouldn't have considered doing such a thing if I didn't know I could get away with it. It was the finality of it that scared me. I had to be certain I was doing the right thing because there was nothing that could be done to change it ... once it was done...
My footsteps on the hard tile floor echoed off the stark cinderblock walls as I made my way toward the room. I didn't bother looking at the room numbers anymore; I knew exactly which door I wanted. I stopped outside the room and my heart skipped a beat, on the other side of that door was the most wonderful woman in the world, my love, my soul mate, Angie. With my hand on the door, I took a deep breath and pushed.
She was strapped into a wheelchair at the far side of the room, staring out the window, the door clicked loudly behind me and her eyes flicked in my direction. I saw disapproval in her lovely eyes.
"I didn't expect to see you for at least another few days."
Is it betrayal when done in their best interest?
"I had to come," I explained, moving to her, "its getting harder and harder to stay away."
"You shouldn't come her so often. It isn't safe, I know it isn't."
"I don't care." I said, caressing her lovely cheek with the back of my fingers. "I needed to see you, talk to you, be with you."
"Then just talk with me - that's all we used to do, we don't have to do anything else. Think of what it's doing to you?"
"But you enjoy it so much, I don't matter - shit, I'm the reason you're here."
"The pond is beautiful today." She said, her eyes shifting, to again look out the window. She smiled - but it was a sad sort of smile.
I knew what she was doing and I didn't blame her, the accident was a painful topic, one I hated talking about as well, mainly because it was entirely my fault.
"Don't avoid it, Angie. I'm not the only one who thinks that our relationship is weird. Some part of you must hate me."
Her eyes came back to me. "I've tried, believe me, I've tried. I can't hate you. I love you." She smiled again, this time without any trace of sadness.
A tear I didn't know was there slipped down my cheek. It was that very smile which caught my eye that day, so long ago. She had been in a blue 1968 Corvette. The bright summer sunlight shining in the highlighted streaks of the thick light brown hair rolling over her tawny shoulders had gotten my attention as I passed her. Then she looked over with her lovely green cat-like eyes and caught me staring. That was when she smiled.
The dazzling beauty of it captivated me and for just a moment I forgot where I was and what I was doing. The harsh blaring of the air horn brought me back to my senses just in time to see the truck cresting the hill in front of me. I jammed the brake pedal of my Excursion all the way to the floor, feeling the stutter of the antilock brakes engaging and twisted the wheel to the right in an attempt to cut back in behind her. She had the same idea, sort of; she had hit her brakes so I could get in front of her.
We both zigged when one of us should have zagged.
The little sports car never stood a chance against my SUV.
That was all either of us remembered until we woke up in the hospital. Within six weeks I discovered that I had gained the ability to enter and control other people's minds, and that she had lost the ability to do anything at all - paralyzed from the neck down.
I went to her room to apologize to her, to see if she would, if she could, forgive me. She was kind and gracious, and our first conversation lasted for hours. When I stood to leave she told me she accepted my apology and forgave me, further, she invited me to come and talk to her any time I wished.
She had told me she had no family, and being new to the area, few friends, so I began to drop in and see her. At first I did it out of guilt, not wanting her to be bored or lonely, but my breath always caught the moment I saw her and the more we talked the more I enjoyed being with her. I stayed out of her head because I had been using my new abilities in some rather sordid ways and didn't want to make any of that part of what we shared. We grew closer and closer until the day she said it.
"I don't want to scare you," she said sincerely, "but I'm afraid I'm falling in love with you."
"I ... I don't know what to say," I stammered, and then decided on the truth. "I've loved you since the moment I saw you."
"I know, and in another life maybe I would wish you hadn't, but ... I'm glad. You're the person I've always dreamed of sharing my life with, and if this is what it took to meet you ... then so be it. I only wish..."
"What? Tell me what you want and I'll take care of it."
Her lips rose in a bittersweet smile, "If only you could. But no one can give me this."
I violated my vow never to intrude upon her mind.
"You want to make love with me, but more than that, you want to make love 'to' me, you want to take pleasure in giving me pleasure. You want to use your body to help assuage the guilt I feel, to show me that you love me unconditionally with no second thoughts or hesitation. Is that what you want?"
Her eyes were wide. "Yes. That's exactly what I want. How did you know?"
I hesitated, but only for a moment. I really didn't want her to know about my power, but if I were to give her what she wanted, what she needed, then she had to know.
"There were side effects from my concussion, and I think I may be able to grant your wish..."
It had taken months to figure out but I had done it. It was the hardest, most worthwhile thing I had ever done - hard because it taxed my abilities to their utmost and caused a psychic backlash that just about melted my brain; worthwhile because it brought her happiness.
I reached over and unbuckled the straps holding her upper arms to the chair.
"No, Sam, you can't, it's too soon."
"It doesn't bother me so much any more," I lied, as I moved onto the bed, "maybe I'm getting stronger."
"That's my story and I'm sticking to it." And I started the process.
Closing my eyes I looked at her with my second sight. She was even more beautiful this way. The second sight sees a person's soul and hers shone with a golden brilliance. Thin tendrils of thought crossed the distance between us, snaking their way to the back of her neck. The tendrils split, one went up into her brain and one stretched out along her spinal chord, tapping into her nervous system. I could feel the chair beneath her, the pad was bunched up again and would have to be straightened or it could cause a sore. I felt the belt across her chest and ones on her thighs. I could feel these things but she couldn't, not yet.
The tendril I had sent to her mind branched out with a million hair-like threads, infiltrating her mind to connect her sense of touch and motor control areas to my own. She tried to reach for the buckle on the belt across her chest; my own hand flew to my chest along with hers. Time for the final step, I placed a block on my own motor control. That was necessary as our nervous systems were now completely intermingled.
.... There is more of this story ...