chapter 4: The beauty of betrayal
"... so that in love and sleep we may learn to trust one another." (Circe to Odysseus. Homer, Odyssey 10.335).
Circe says it happens thusly...
I am dreaming of my island, and my men and my animals... my potions and my herbs and my wand and the sea that surrounds me. And as I walk through this dreamscape I hear the beating of a drum. It's a leisurely walk towards the sound; picking flowers for my hair, watching the birds, calling my dogs to me... The trees and shrubbery clear, and I see you at the drum. You're huge and naked and beautiful and there... and you smile at me, and gesture with your head for me to join you... and I walk closer and pick up your scent on the breeze. The air is heavy with you. I grin and drop my shawl to the ground, picking up my pace, cos all I want is to be wrapped in your arms-- The drums stop, you pounce at me with a snarl, lip curled and angry. The air turns toxic, and I realise that you're not...
I awaken to a pounding, both on my door and in my head. I am full of confusion and fog, full of half-seen images, and half-formed thoughts. ¥our contorted face drifts through my mind and vanishes into a mist. I sit up, and slide my bare legs over the edge of the couch, hold my head in my hands, trying to grasp the final fragments of a dream... Am I being called home? Was I there? Were you? The pounding ceases, on the door at least, and I shake my head, spilling my hair over my shoulders and sigh. I stand and stretch and look at the clock, and am happy to see the day is almost over.
'Hey!'
I tense, startled and look to the door; it shakes, chain rattling, as the pounding resumes. I moan an 'OK'.
'Open the door! Come ON!'
'Fuck! OK!'
I drag myself to the door, wondering how often mortals feel this way upon waking — lethargic, dazed, unaware— and understand why they are so easily played with. I have so little will, such little care for myself right now... I feel nothing, not even apathy. I do not see how they can function. And I remind myself how dysfunctional this race actually is, and though I am human now, I stand alone in my Soulessness. I am not truly one of them, no matter how mortal my blood, or how close to real death I always am. I catch my reflection in the mirror, and wonder if it's normal to answer the door undressed... But I look good. And I shrug.
I fiddle with the lock, undo the chain, and turn the handle to let you in... but you burst through the door in a frenzy, and before I have a chance to move, you've knocked me out of the way, and I gasp as a I lose balance, and skin my toe as the door grazes over it. Yelping, I bend and grab at my foot.
And you slap my arse HARD... sending me slamming forward and up, and into the door. And is the greater pain the searing sting on my buttock or the bend in my wrist as it takes my weight, softening the connection between my head and the door? I'm not sure that I cared. But I tensed up and growled, nonetheless: growled low and loud, guttural, and deep and strong, with great force; growled from my guts; growled til I scratched up my throat, and ran out of breath. I growled both a warning, and an invitation.
And you just laugh and slap me again.
'Missed me, Circe?' you say. And I melt against the door, fingers splayed, lower arms resting on the panelling, elbows bent, head turned, cheek and breasts pressed against the wood. I would know that voice anywhere, have been hearing it for what could be centuries. And it sings through me, vibrates me til I tingle, and immediately dominates my mind cos it's yours. And I am only human, after all.
And I nod as hackles rise in my guts...
You kick my feet apart, spread my legs with a push and a shove, and ram your hand between my legs. And I find myself moving on it immediately and apparently I am already wet, cos I slide over your knuckles with ease, my clit pulsing and swelling every time I grind over you. I close my eyes and moan, and I taste the smell of varnish, feel smooth coolness on my tongue as I lick at the door. Til you pull my head back by my hair... pull so hard I cry out, and slap at your hand, grab you and dig my nails into your skin, scratch down... and you laugh, and pull harder, bending my neck at impossible angles, arching my back til my stomach muscles ache, stretched so far and can almost feel them rip. And they, amongst other things, would pain me for days to come....
I mumble through my taut and lengthened throat... try to tell you not to fuck with me.
And laughter bubbles from you, foamy and playful, but you release my hair, and my head swings forward, to knock upon the door. You rub a hand over my arse, and trace the raised-red hand mark with a finger. You lean over my back and kiss gently at my shoulders, lick up my neck to my ear and whisper:
'I am only here to fuck with you, my love... fuck with you, through you, for you...'
I groan and believe you. I take my weight on an elbow and bend my arm back, to stroke your face. You nuzzle against me as I relax back onto the door, nibbling at me, dragging your teeth up the back of my neck. And they feel sharper than I have known them to, your canines like pointy, scratching, spikes. But I tilt my head and allow you access anyway. Your hand moves from my arse, up my spine, you muss at my hair and plant your hand over mine, pressing it against the door. I hear you unbuckle, unzip. Your breath's hot and slow in my ear, and I turn my head to you, rubbing my lips on your cheek, kissing you lightly and searching for your mouth... And just as my lips find yours, you pull away. I tongue at the air... And the change in your pockets clinks as your pants land on the floor.
You grasp me by a hip, and slide your cock through my slit. And I stiffen, am tense. You feel different down there; thicker and bigger, perhaps. But you feel destructive. I frown against the wall, and my tension causes my pussy to get even tighter. You push at me with a grunt and knee my thighs further apart. I turn my head to look at you, needing to see you, wondering who you are to me, questioning and concerned. You push my head against the door before I get a glimpse.
'It's okay baby... I'll be nice', says you. And just hearing that makes it kinda okay...
Your cock rubs over my clit and slides back down to dip just into my hole, the thick head already stretching me. You slide it back out and smear my wetness all over my lips. You dip back in, and rest it there... And I wonder why I am not pushing myself right onto you, unable to resist... cos I want you... I am wet for you despite your manner. I can't help but be anything but. And ordinarily you would be inside me before either of us actually knew.
But my body resists you. My cunt seems clamped shut. Muttering a curse at me under your breath, words spill from you that just aren't yours; they can't be yours. But I hear your voice; and I want to speak up, but I have none. I manage to squeak. You push against me, hissing harsh onto my back... and I sting and I burn and I gasp, breaking two fingernails as I claw the door and yelp. Why I am accepting this...? I am I not me?
Clearly our dynamic has changed, and it hits me like your slap; I am Goddess to you no more. There is no reverence, no adoration, no respect or care or love. That bond is gone. I am just a Fuckhole... a tremendous and magnificent cock receptacle to fill with your venom. I am like any other mortal orifice... nada. But I hope... I always hope. And I trust. I believe in our bond. I am sure of our path. And I know you are mine. I know it. You have been promised.
I grit my teeth, and push my torso off the door... My momentum and my acceptance and your shoving and prising and eager prodding is enough. You break me open, and the pain is all I have to hold as my knees fold, eyes squeeze shut, jaw drops slack. Something inside me screams, but the tone is ambiguous... as foggy as my mind. Your arm wraps tight round my tummy. Holding a shoulder, you lower me to the floor, cock deep inside keeping my hips raised. My fingertips slide down the door, and another nails tears before my palms plant themselves on the cold, smooth tiles on the floor. And my backside falls as we drop on our knees.
You can have me like this... You can. You can have me as you wish. You wanna be rough with me, wanna treat me like a dog? Then I will snap and I will bite. I will play the vixen. I will be the bitch. But I will take control. I will do it on my terms. There's no physical pain I won't endure. And if I consent, you can not force me...
I open my eyes, flick my head up, and am confronted by our reflection in the full length mirror by the door. And as much I grin wickedly, and giggle low and evil through clenched teeth and tight jaw, and as much as I lose this sight again when you pull my head back by the hair, and I inhale sharply and snap my eyes closed again as chills ripple through my body, and as much as I can't decide if I desire or abhor you... I have seen you now. I know it is you. It's you My Man.
And I smile as my guts tighten and growl.
I clench my cunt around you, tighten so much I hope it hurts. But it doesn't of course, you just moan long and deep and loosen your hold on my hair, dropping your hand to my back. I push back on you, feeling your final millimetres fill me, my beautiful buttocks held by your hips. And although you do not fit as you did, my eyelids relax and I regard your reflection through half-closed eyes... You're top half appears all work; be-suited and pressed, shaven and clean and composed, the tie that is mine still tight at your throat. But the part that is play, naked and wild and restless and taunting, I can not see, but for the sides of your naked thighs framing my quadrupedic position. So I smile at myself, and wink. And I wink back. And I raise my eyes to yours...looking up at you coyly, small smiling. And our eyes meet and I see that you revere me. You do. You really do. You are fucking putty in my hands once more...
'So, My Man, you gonna fuck me, or what...?', I grin. And your reflection ripples and flickers. You are silent and staring... So I fuck you.
Fucking you slow... taking my time... alternating my weight between my hands and knees. I close my eyes and concentrate my vision and my sense on my pussy. I inhabit her fully. And you are just a cock, entirely disembodied. Leaning forward, pushing back, adapting myself to suit you, tailoring my insides to fit your needs, I let myself out... spreading wider, breathing deep and slackening the clench, unpicking myself at the seams... softening, tempering, relaxing... and watching you close. I come undone and do you.
And my guts bristle once and go quiet.
I push back with more force, and smack my arse against you. Raising it, my weight rests on my elbows, lower arms laying against the floor, nipples grazing the cold, hard tiles... neck bent back to hold your eye. I shake my arse from side to side, try to rattle you round in my tightness. Your eyes squeeze shut as tight as me; the howl guttural. Smirking and biting my lip, I grip you hard and push on you with all I have.
Circling my hips and keeping you deep, making you hit that spot so I spasm involuntarily. Pulse beats fast in my clit, shooting shivers from that sacred gem to course through my mortal veins, and cover me in goosebumps, tightening my flesh... Feeling the quickening, I increase my pace. I swing on you and rotate, marking your shaft with sticky spirals to its very tip, only to delete my art in an instant, wiping the patterns away as I bang back onto you, your balls slapping lightly on my open slit, making me quiver. Tightening and unscrewing you out of me, relaxing and hammering you home... over and again. Working hard to make this the perfect place...
And moaning long, I raise myself back onto my hands, arch my back and see myself... My breasts hang down, hard nipples and puckered aureole pointing at the floor, gravity sucking at their weight, the surrounding skin stretched smooth and taut, swaying hypnotically and knocking against each other on my hard downwards thrusts... thrusts that are accelerating all the time. And although I find it hard to pull my eyes away and look at you, I know that I must. I need to see you. Need to see your desire and know I'm doing good. Your ragged breath is suggestive, but your hands have not moved once. Your hips are still. I prepare a smile, and raise my eyes...
There you are. There you are my beautiful, magnificent Man. Looking down on me, eyes on mine... an unblinking stare, hard as your fucking phallus. I grin at you, open-mouthed, tongue tracing my bottom lip, a low growl in my throat that I release with a bark. I gnash my teeth... bend my head back and stretch my throat, watching down my nose at you, eyelids heavy. And I just ride that cock of yours... no more rotating hips, just straight in and out... heavy duty hard fucking... slamming so much I will spill my cream, pounding so intense you will have to break and spurt, just good hard pumping smashing slamming banging crushing crashing thumping pounding bashing grinding drilling thudding fucking that I know will make us cum for each other. Cos I can feel it... I can feel--
I feel my head pulled back my hair. A gasping whimper takes its flight, exiting my lips as a startled cry. Your other hand grips my breast and pinches the nipple so hard I get tears. You lean onto my back, breath rasping in my ear. The scent hits my nose... sour, sickly, cloying...
My guts clench sending it's bile up my throat, an acidic message to tell me it told me so... Oh my Gods... Oh sweet Sister's, protect me...
'You're a dumb little bitch... You're a dog... You're nothing but a mortal whore...' says He.
And He pulls harder at my hair and I hear it rip from my scalp. I look at him and bite my lip, breaking the skin with a canine. And finally his hips begin to move... but I regret they do. He fills me up with three sharp thrusts, and his molten load burns through me like thick lava. And I hold his eye the whole time... letting him see how much he will regret this... letting him know that he can't have this fun... letting him read of the curse that is to be his.
He slides out of me and pushes me down. Spits on my back... But I keep looking; keep smiling gently. Even as he pulls up his pants and eyes me with ire, raises his hand to strike me again, I merely sit and watch... incantations reveal themselves... chants and long-forgotten spells whisper through my veins. I do not flinch from him or my duty... and Psyche's gift to me is suddenly clear.
He lowers his hand and calls me 'cunt' and leaves. Watching the door close behind him, I gently cup myself, and rub a loving finger through the mess down below... Raising that finger to study my blood and his cum... a powerful mixture that will work to bring him down. And if not, I will go down. And then it will not matter.
I can take a life. I can lose my life. But never did I think I may be here to give one...
Circe says it happens thusly...
I am dreaming of my island, and my men and my animals... my potions and my herbs and my wand and the sea that surrounds me. And as I walk through this dreamscape I hear the beating of a drum. It's a leisurely walk towards the sound; picking flowers for my hair, watching the birds, calling my dogs to me... The trees and shrubbery clear, and I see you at the drum. You're huge and naked and beautiful and there... and you smile at me, and gesture with your head for me to join you... and I walk closer and pick up your scent on the breeze. The air is heavy with you. I grin and drop my shawl to the ground, picking up my pace, cos all I want is to be wrapped in your arms-- The drums stop, you pounce at me with a snarl, lip curled and angry. The air turns toxic, and I realise that you're not...
I awaken to a pounding, both on my door and in my head. I am full of confusion and fog, full of half-seen images, and half-formed thoughts. ¥our contorted face drifts through my mind and vanishes into a mist. I sit up, and slide my bare legs over the edge of the couch, hold my head in my hands, trying to grasp the final fragments of a dream... Am I being called home? Was I there? Were you? The pounding ceases, on the door at least, and I shake my head, spilling my hair over my shoulders and sigh. I stand and stretch and look at the clock, and am happy to see the day is almost over.
'Hey!'
I tense, startled and look to the door; it shakes, chain rattling, as the pounding resumes. I moan an 'OK'.
'Open the door! Come ON!'
'Fuck! OK!'
I drag myself to the door, wondering how often mortals feel this way upon waking — lethargic, dazed, unaware— and understand why they are so easily played with. I have so little will, such little care for myself right now... I feel nothing, not even apathy. I do not see how they can function. And I remind myself how dysfunctional this race actually is, and though I am human now, I stand alone in my Soulessness. I am not truly one of them, no matter how mortal my blood, or how close to real death I always am. I catch my reflection in the mirror, and wonder if it's normal to answer the door undressed... But I look good. And I shrug.
I fiddle with the lock, undo the chain, and turn the handle to let you in... but you burst through the door in a frenzy, and before I have a chance to move, you've knocked me out of the way, and I gasp as a I lose balance, and skin my toe as the door grazes over it. Yelping, I bend and grab at my foot.
And you slap my arse HARD... sending me slamming forward and up, and into the door. And is the greater pain the searing sting on my buttock or the bend in my wrist as it takes my weight, softening the connection between my head and the door? I'm not sure that I cared. But I tensed up and growled, nonetheless: growled low and loud, guttural, and deep and strong, with great force; growled from my guts; growled til I scratched up my throat, and ran out of breath. I growled both a warning, and an invitation.
And you just laugh and slap me again.
'Missed me, Circe?' you say. And I melt against the door, fingers splayed, lower arms resting on the panelling, elbows bent, head turned, cheek and breasts pressed against the wood. I would know that voice anywhere, have been hearing it for what could be centuries. And it sings through me, vibrates me til I tingle, and immediately dominates my mind cos it's yours. And I am only human, after all.
And I nod as hackles rise in my guts...
You kick my feet apart, spread my legs with a push and a shove, and ram your hand between my legs. And I find myself moving on it immediately and apparently I am already wet, cos I slide over your knuckles with ease, my clit pulsing and swelling every time I grind over you. I close my eyes and moan, and I taste the smell of varnish, feel smooth coolness on my tongue as I lick at the door. Til you pull my head back by my hair... pull so hard I cry out, and slap at your hand, grab you and dig my nails into your skin, scratch down... and you laugh, and pull harder, bending my neck at impossible angles, arching my back til my stomach muscles ache, stretched so far and can almost feel them rip. And they, amongst other things, would pain me for days to come....
I mumble through my taut and lengthened throat... try to tell you not to fuck with me.
And laughter bubbles from you, foamy and playful, but you release my hair, and my head swings forward, to knock upon the door. You rub a hand over my arse, and trace the raised-red hand mark with a finger. You lean over my back and kiss gently at my shoulders, lick up my neck to my ear and whisper:
'I am only here to fuck with you, my love... fuck with you, through you, for you...'
I groan and believe you. I take my weight on an elbow and bend my arm back, to stroke your face. You nuzzle against me as I relax back onto the door, nibbling at me, dragging your teeth up the back of my neck. And they feel sharper than I have known them to, your canines like pointy, scratching, spikes. But I tilt my head and allow you access anyway. Your hand moves from my arse, up my spine, you muss at my hair and plant your hand over mine, pressing it against the door. I hear you unbuckle, unzip. Your breath's hot and slow in my ear, and I turn my head to you, rubbing my lips on your cheek, kissing you lightly and searching for your mouth... And just as my lips find yours, you pull away. I tongue at the air... And the change in your pockets clinks as your pants land on the floor.
You grasp me by a hip, and slide your cock through my slit. And I stiffen, am tense. You feel different down there; thicker and bigger, perhaps. But you feel destructive. I frown against the wall, and my tension causes my pussy to get even tighter. You push at me with a grunt and knee my thighs further apart. I turn my head to look at you, needing to see you, wondering who you are to me, questioning and concerned. You push my head against the door before I get a glimpse.
'It's okay baby... I'll be nice', says you. And just hearing that makes it kinda okay...
Your cock rubs over my clit and slides back down to dip just into my hole, the thick head already stretching me. You slide it back out and smear my wetness all over my lips. You dip back in, and rest it there... And I wonder why I am not pushing myself right onto you, unable to resist... cos I want you... I am wet for you despite your manner. I can't help but be anything but. And ordinarily you would be inside me before either of us actually knew.
But my body resists you. My cunt seems clamped shut. Muttering a curse at me under your breath, words spill from you that just aren't yours; they can't be yours. But I hear your voice; and I want to speak up, but I have none. I manage to squeak. You push against me, hissing harsh onto my back... and I sting and I burn and I gasp, breaking two fingernails as I claw the door and yelp. Why I am accepting this...? I am I not me?
Clearly our dynamic has changed, and it hits me like your slap; I am Goddess to you no more. There is no reverence, no adoration, no respect or care or love. That bond is gone. I am just a Fuckhole... a tremendous and magnificent cock receptacle to fill with your venom. I am like any other mortal orifice... nada. But I hope... I always hope. And I trust. I believe in our bond. I am sure of our path. And I know you are mine. I know it. You have been promised.
I grit my teeth, and push my torso off the door... My momentum and my acceptance and your shoving and prising and eager prodding is enough. You break me open, and the pain is all I have to hold as my knees fold, eyes squeeze shut, jaw drops slack. Something inside me screams, but the tone is ambiguous... as foggy as my mind. Your arm wraps tight round my tummy. Holding a shoulder, you lower me to the floor, cock deep inside keeping my hips raised. My fingertips slide down the door, and another nails tears before my palms plant themselves on the cold, smooth tiles on the floor. And my backside falls as we drop on our knees.
You can have me like this... You can. You can have me as you wish. You wanna be rough with me, wanna treat me like a dog? Then I will snap and I will bite. I will play the vixen. I will be the bitch. But I will take control. I will do it on my terms. There's no physical pain I won't endure. And if I consent, you can not force me...
I open my eyes, flick my head up, and am confronted by our reflection in the full length mirror by the door. And as much I grin wickedly, and giggle low and evil through clenched teeth and tight jaw, and as much as I lose this sight again when you pull my head back by the hair, and I inhale sharply and snap my eyes closed again as chills ripple through my body, and as much as I can't decide if I desire or abhor you... I have seen you now. I know it is you. It's you My Man.
And I smile as my guts tighten and growl.
I clench my cunt around you, tighten so much I hope it hurts. But it doesn't of course, you just moan long and deep and loosen your hold on my hair, dropping your hand to my back. I push back on you, feeling your final millimetres fill me, my beautiful buttocks held by your hips. And although you do not fit as you did, my eyelids relax and I regard your reflection through half-closed eyes... You're top half appears all work; be-suited and pressed, shaven and clean and composed, the tie that is mine still tight at your throat. But the part that is play, naked and wild and restless and taunting, I can not see, but for the sides of your naked thighs framing my quadrupedic position. So I smile at myself, and wink. And I wink back. And I raise my eyes to yours...looking up at you coyly, small smiling. And our eyes meet and I see that you revere me. You do. You really do. You are fucking putty in my hands once more...
'So, My Man, you gonna fuck me, or what...?', I grin. And your reflection ripples and flickers. You are silent and staring... So I fuck you.
Fucking you slow... taking my time... alternating my weight between my hands and knees. I close my eyes and concentrate my vision and my sense on my pussy. I inhabit her fully. And you are just a cock, entirely disembodied. Leaning forward, pushing back, adapting myself to suit you, tailoring my insides to fit your needs, I let myself out... spreading wider, breathing deep and slackening the clench, unpicking myself at the seams... softening, tempering, relaxing... and watching you close. I come undone and do you.
And my guts bristle once and go quiet.
I push back with more force, and smack my arse against you. Raising it, my weight rests on my elbows, lower arms laying against the floor, nipples grazing the cold, hard tiles... neck bent back to hold your eye. I shake my arse from side to side, try to rattle you round in my tightness. Your eyes squeeze shut as tight as me; the howl guttural. Smirking and biting my lip, I grip you hard and push on you with all I have.
Circling my hips and keeping you deep, making you hit that spot so I spasm involuntarily. Pulse beats fast in my clit, shooting shivers from that sacred gem to course through my mortal veins, and cover me in goosebumps, tightening my flesh... Feeling the quickening, I increase my pace. I swing on you and rotate, marking your shaft with sticky spirals to its very tip, only to delete my art in an instant, wiping the patterns away as I bang back onto you, your balls slapping lightly on my open slit, making me quiver. Tightening and unscrewing you out of me, relaxing and hammering you home... over and again. Working hard to make this the perfect place...
And moaning long, I raise myself back onto my hands, arch my back and see myself... My breasts hang down, hard nipples and puckered aureole pointing at the floor, gravity sucking at their weight, the surrounding skin stretched smooth and taut, swaying hypnotically and knocking against each other on my hard downwards thrusts... thrusts that are accelerating all the time. And although I find it hard to pull my eyes away and look at you, I know that I must. I need to see you. Need to see your desire and know I'm doing good. Your ragged breath is suggestive, but your hands have not moved once. Your hips are still. I prepare a smile, and raise my eyes...
There you are. There you are my beautiful, magnificent Man. Looking down on me, eyes on mine... an unblinking stare, hard as your fucking phallus. I grin at you, open-mouthed, tongue tracing my bottom lip, a low growl in my throat that I release with a bark. I gnash my teeth... bend my head back and stretch my throat, watching down my nose at you, eyelids heavy. And I just ride that cock of yours... no more rotating hips, just straight in and out... heavy duty hard fucking... slamming so much I will spill my cream, pounding so intense you will have to break and spurt, just good hard pumping smashing slamming banging crushing crashing thumping pounding bashing grinding drilling thudding fucking that I know will make us cum for each other. Cos I can feel it... I can feel--
I feel my head pulled back my hair. A gasping whimper takes its flight, exiting my lips as a startled cry. Your other hand grips my breast and pinches the nipple so hard I get tears. You lean onto my back, breath rasping in my ear. The scent hits my nose... sour, sickly, cloying...
My guts clench sending it's bile up my throat, an acidic message to tell me it told me so... Oh my Gods... Oh sweet Sister's, protect me...
'You're a dumb little bitch... You're a dog... You're nothing but a mortal whore...' says He.
And He pulls harder at my hair and I hear it rip from my scalp. I look at him and bite my lip, breaking the skin with a canine. And finally his hips begin to move... but I regret they do. He fills me up with three sharp thrusts, and his molten load burns through me like thick lava. And I hold his eye the whole time... letting him see how much he will regret this... letting him know that he can't have this fun... letting him read of the curse that is to be his.
He slides out of me and pushes me down. Spits on my back... But I keep looking; keep smiling gently. Even as he pulls up his pants and eyes me with ire, raises his hand to strike me again, I merely sit and watch... incantations reveal themselves... chants and long-forgotten spells whisper through my veins. I do not flinch from him or my duty... and Psyche's gift to me is suddenly clear.
He lowers his hand and calls me 'cunt' and leaves. Watching the door close behind him, I gently cup myself, and rub a loving finger through the mess down below... Raising that finger to study my blood and his cum... a powerful mixture that will work to bring him down. And if not, I will go down. And then it will not matter.
I can take a life. I can lose my life. But never did I think I may be here to give one...