The middle does not know why he is sorry

[So, did you apologize?]

Daimone ignored Jamal and walked to his personal office. He could easily sift there, but he needed to keep his body busy and moving. He checked to see if there were any more documents to look through, but there were none. For the first time in his life, he cursed himself for being too efficient.

His mind wandered towards what he didn't want to think about: the child and her odd request. Like he expected, her mother was neglecting her. Why else would she request for him to conjure up Tammy Farlan when the real one was sleeping somewhere in the house?

The way the child had tried hide her happiness at seeing a fake Tammy Farlan showering her with attention reminded him of himself. Before his mind could draw up old memories, he shoved it deep within the confines of his mind and turned his attention to Jamal.

[I…forgot], he told Jamal honestly.

He could feel his brother thinking.

[Hm. Tomorrow is my night… I suppose I could give it up to you…]

Daimone thought about it. Did he want to meet the child again so soon? He was the oldest of the brothers, though. He would be the first to turn three-hundred and die, so he should probably take advantage of every opportunity given to him, shouldn't he?

Before he could officially take up on the offer, Jamal chuckled and said, [Ooh, sorry brother. I don't think I can give it up.]

Was that disappointment he was feeling? No, no, it wasn't. [Do as you like], he told Jamal curtly.

[It's not that I don't value your life, Daimone, but each of us should have an equal chance at getting her love.]

Daimone sighed. [You don't have to explain, Jamal. If only Ellerslie had built three of the devices, not one.]

Jamal laughed, but his tone was serious. [Having a part of my essence ripped away from my being once is enough.] He was quiet for a while. [It…it felt like I had taken a sip of death.]

Daimone looked down at his desk, not really seeing it. He could still feel the pain from where Ellerslie had extracted a piece of his essence. His brothers had strapped him down to make sure he did no harm when Ellerslie began, and he had first scoffed at the idea. But when Ellerslie began, he realized their worries had been right. Had Daimone not been held down by chains and Jamal's brute strength, he would have lunged for Ellerslie's throat with the intent to kill just to end the pain. Jamal's process was worst since he was physically the strongest, but he and Ellerslie managed to contain him until it was over, escaping injury by an inch since Jamal had gnawed through one of the chains and had started snapping his jaws wildly in their direction. Ellerslie extracted his own essence himself, not even flinching as the device snipped a piece of him away. It made Daimone wonder whether it was truly the first time Ellerslie did that to himself.

[Do you…] began Jamal. He paused and continued. [Do you feel it tingling sometimes? It's like that itch you never seem to find. You feel it begging to be scratched, but you never seem to know where it is. Do you…feel a piece of yourself missing?]

Daimone fell quiet. [I…do.]

[Have you…] Jamal stopped and didn't continue.

[Jamal?]

[Never mind, brother. I think I'll be going to sleep now.] Jamal abruptly ended his side of the connection, and Daimone sighed. Given the direction of where their conversation was heading, he had a feeling he knew what Jamal was going to ask. He popped into his bedroom and his back hit his bed. He closed his eyes, wishing death away.

So, did you apologize?

Daimone ignored Jamal and walked to his personal office. He could easily sift there, but he needed to keep his body busy and moving. He checked to see if there were any more documents to look through, but there were none. For the first time in his life, he cursed himself for being too efficient.

His mind wandered towards what he didn't want to think about: the child and her odd request. Like he expected, her mother was neglecting her. Why else would she request for him to conjure up Tammy Farlan when the real one was sleeping somewhere in the house?

The way the child had tried hide her happiness at seeing a fake Tammy Farlan showering her with attention reminded him of himself. Before his mind could draw up old memories, he shoved it deep within the confines of his mind and turned his attention to Jamal.

I…forgot, he told Jamal honestly.

He could feel his brother thinking.

Hm. Tomorrow is my night… I suppose I could give it up to you…

Daimone thought about it. Did he want to meet the child again so soon? He was the oldest of the brothers, though. He would be the first to turn three-hundred and die, so he should probably take advantage of every opportunity given to him, shouldn't he?

Before he could officially take up on the offer, Jamal chuckled and said, Ooh, sorry brother. I don't think I can give it up.

Was that disappointment he was feeling? No, no, it wasn't. Do as you like, he told Jamal curtly.

It's not that I don't value your life, Daimone, but each of us should have an equal chance at getting her love.

Daimone sighed. You don't have to explain, Jamal. If only Ellerslie had built three of the devices, not one.

Jamal laughed, but his tone was serious. Having a part of my essence ripped away from my being once is enough. He was quiet for a while. It…it felt like I had taken a sip of death.

Daimone looked down at his desk, not really seeing it. He could still feel the pain from where Ellerslie had extracted a piece of his essence. His brothers had strapped him down to make sure he did no harm when Ellerslie began, and he had first scoffed at the idea. But when Ellerslie began, he realized their worries had been right. Had Daimone not been held down by chains and Jamal's brute strength, he would have lunged for Ellerslie's throat with the intent to kill just to end the pain. Jamal's process was worst since he was physically the strongest, but he and Ellerslie managed to contain him until it was over, escaping injury by an inch since Jamal had gnawed through one of the chains and had started snapping his jaws wildly in their direction. Ellerslie extracted his own essence himself, not even flinching as the device snipped a piece of him away. It made Daimone wonder whether it was truly the first time Ellerslie did that to himself.

Do you…began Jamal. He paused and continued. Do you feel it tingling sometimes? It's like that itch you never seem to find. You feel it begging to be scratched, but you never seem to know where it is. Do you…feel a piece of yourself missing?

Daimone fell quiet. I…do.

Have you… Jamal stopped and didn't continue.

Jamal?

Never mind, brother. I think I'll be going to sleep now. Jamal abruptly ended his side of the connection, and Daimone sighed. Given the direction of where their conversation was heading, he had a feeling he knew what Jamal was going to ask. He popped into his bedroom and his back hit his bed. He closed his eyes, wishing death away.

===================

Jamal walked into the familiar bar and scoured the room, eyes searching, anxious to get the feeling of death off his mind. The bartender nodded in his direction, but he barely noticed. Need was making his bones restless, and he didn't bother to hide his ravenous hunger. A woman in a revealing dress made eye contact with him, interest sparkling her eyes. He looked her over once before walking up to her and talking her hand. She didn't resist as he led her out the back and into the alley.

The vehicle that he kept for pretenses was at the end of the alley, and he had enough control over his body to offer her a warm place instead of immediately fucking her in that dark alley.

When they were in the vehicle however, she took the initiative and began stroking his hardness through the seams of his pants. He immediately drew down the blinds to the windows of the vehicle and pulled her to his lap. She straddled him, the billows of her dress spreading around them. She leaned back against the wheel and started grinding against him, panting. He groaned when he felt the valleys of her entry squeeze his hardness between them. He quickly pulled the front of her dress down and her naked breasts spilled out. Capturing a hard nipple with his teeth, he began teasing and licking it. To his surprise, warm milk squirted onto his lips, and he stopped, surprised.

He stopped the moving woman and asked, "Are you married?"

She flushed and averted her gaze. He took her chin and forced her to look at him. "Tell me."

Say no, his cock begged. Tell me your husband left you and your babe. Tell me you have no husband so I can fuck you in peace.

"H-He…he's with the baby," she murmured, her eyes casted down.

She was still sitting on his erection, and, if he just listened to his desires, they could both reach ecstasy as she rode him while he sucked all the milk from both her breasts. He wouldn't have to worry about the guilt plaguing him if he chose to ignore it.

Sighing, he pulled the dress up over her chest and moved her to the seat next to his. She adjusted her dress, her face drained of blood. "Um, mister…" she began. Hearing her address him in that way made him realize how young she was. He massaged the ache he felt spreading across his skull.

"Are you working?" he asked.

"No!" she shouted, blushing. Then she bit her lip and faced the window. "It was only for today. My husband broke both his legs while doing manual labor a month ago, and no money has been coming in. This is the fastest way to earn since I barely make any from my day job," she said bitterly.

"You haven't told him," he guessed. She swiveled towards him, face pale.

"P-please, I'll do anything you want," she whispered, tears gathering at the edge of her eyes.

"Don't you ever say that a random person again," he snarled into her face.

She flinched back and stilled, her breath hitching. Satisfied at her fear, he turned on the engine and asked for her address. She whispered it, and he drove away in that direction. When they were near enough, he parked a couple of houses away. Reaching for his wallet, he pulled out a thick wad of cash. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a pen and scribbled an address onto a piece of money. Then he handed the entire thing to the woman.

"Go to this address when this runs out," he said, pointing to the money he had just handed to her. "They'll help you find a good paying job and will provide services you can utilize to help your family."

"I-I—" the woman stuttered.

He leaned close to her. "Never go to a bar with that intention again," he warned with a glare. When she finally nodded in shock, he reached across her and opened her door.

"You should fix yourself before going in," he advised as nudged her out, seeing as she couldn't remember how to get out herself.

He gave a final smile he wasn't feeling to the woman before closing the door and driving off. The need still hadn't worn off and he was starting to feel like his bones were catching on fire. He parked at the nearest rest and leaned his burning forehead against the wheel, trying to catch his breath and cool his balls.

Why? He cursed at himself. Why do I need to hold a woman in my arms for this feeling to go away? I'm tired of fucking my life away…Please…

He licked his lips to decrease his body temperature, and accidentally lapped at a bead of milk he had yet to wipe off. His entire body arched backwards as a fire burned within his core, Daimone's story from so long ago echoing inside his head. Something about a mother's precious milk…

A desperate heat swept over his vision and he didn't hesitate as he unzipped his pants and gripped his hard erection. The blood in his ears were beating to the same tune the veins in his erection was pulsing to, and he fucked his fist, wanting to reach that heated state of oblivion. When his toes finally curled and his entire body jerked, a delicious, warm liquid blasted out of his tip, staining the ceiling of the vehicle. He leaned back, trembling, gasping for air. As the remaining heat left his body, he realized there were tears streaming down from his eyes.

He wiped them away, muttering, "I'm sorry," over and over, not knowing why or who he was apologizing to.

===================

Jamal walked into the familiar bar and scoured the room, eyes searching, anxious to get the feeling of death off his mind. The bartender nodded in his direction, but he barely noticed. Need was making his bones restless, and he didn't bother to hide his ravenous hunger. A woman in a revealing dress made eye contact with him, interest sparkling her eyes. He looked her over once before walking up to her and talking her hand. She didn't resist as he led her out the back and into the alley.

The vehicle that he kept for pretenses was at the end of the alley, and he had enough control over his body to offer her a warm place instead of immediately fucking her in that dark alley. When they were in the vehicle however, she took the initiative and began stroking his hardness through the seams of his pants. He immediately drew down the blinds to the windows of the vehicle and pulled her to his lap. She straddled him, the billows of her dress spreading around them. She leaned back against the wheel and started grinding against him, panting. He groaned when he felt the valleys of her entry squeeze his hardness between them. He quickly pulled the front of her dress down and her naked breasts spilled out.

Capturing a hard nipple with his teeth, he began teasing and licking it.To his surprise, warm milk squirted onto his lips, and he stopped, surprised. He stopped the moving woman and asked, "Are you married?"

She flushed and averted her gaze. He took her chin and forced her to look at him. "Tell me."

Say no, his cock begged. Tell me your husband left you and your babe. Tell me you have no husband so I can fuck you in peace.

"H-He…he's with the baby," she murmured, her eyes cast down.

She was still sitting on his erection, and, if he just listened to his desires, they could both reach ecstasy as she rode him while he sucked all the milk from both her breasts. He wouldn't have to worry about the guilt plaguing him if he chose to ignore it.

Sighing, he pulled the dress up over her chest and moved her to the seat next to his. She adjusted her dress, her face drained of blood. "Um, mister…" she began. Hearing her address him in that way made him realize how young she was. He massaged the ache he felt spreading across his skull.

"Are you working?" he asked.

"No!" she shouted, blushing. Then she bit her lip and faced the window. "It was only for today. My husband broke both his legs while doing manual labor a month ago, and no money has been coming in. This is the fastest way to earn since I barely make any from my day job," she said bitterly.

"You haven't told him," he guessed. She swiveled towards him, face pale.

"P-please, I'll do anything you want," she whispered, tears gathering at the edge of her eyes.

He swiveled so quickly towards her that she became immobilized with shock. "Don't you ever say that to a random person again," he snarled into her face.

She flinched back and stilled, her breath hitching. Satisfied at her fear, he turned on the engine and asked for her address. She whispered it, and he drove away in that direction. When they were near enough, he parked a couple of houses away. Reaching for his wallet, he pulled out a thick wad of cash. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a pen and scribbled an address onto a piece of money. Then he handed the entire thing to the woman.

"Go to this address when this runs out," he said, pointing to the money he had just handed to her. "They'll help you find a good paying job and will provide services you can utilize to help your family."

"I-I—" the woman stuttered.

He leaned close to her. "Never go to a bar with that intention again," he warned with a cold stare. When she finally nodded in shock, he reached across her and opened her door.

"You should fix yourself before going in," he advised as nudged her out, seeing as she couldn't remember how to get out herself.

He gave a final smile he wasn't feeling to the woman before closing the door and driving off. The need still hadn't worn off and he was starting to feel like his bones were catching on fire. He parked at the nearest rest and leaned his burning forehead against the wheel, trying to catch his breath and cool his balls.

Why? He cursed at himself. Why do I need to hold a woman in my arms for this feeling to go away? I'm tired of fucking my life away…Please…

He licked his lips to decrease his body temperature, and accidentally lapped at a bead of milk he had yet to wipe off. His entire body arched back as a fire burned within his core, Daimone's story from so long ago echoing inside of his head. Something about a mother's precious milk…

A desperate heat swept over his vision and he didn't hesitate as he unzipped his pants and gripped his hard erection. The blood in his ears were beating to the same tune the veins in his erection was pulsing to, and he fucked his fist, wanting to reach that heated state of oblivion. When his toes finally curled and his entire body jerked, a delicious, warm liquid blasted out of his tip, staining the ceiling of the vehicle. He leaned back, trembling, gasping for air. As the remaining heat left his body, he realized there were tears streaming down from his eyes.

He wiped them away, muttering, "I'm sorry," over and over, not knowing why or who he was apologizing to.