Cupid's Iss

Author's Note: The classic tale of Cupid & Psyche's love thwarted by Aphrodite, but with some modern twists & characters.

The pen scratched on the plain white sheets. Black words drew permanent lines and curves in straight lines. Big scientific words described her to be raving mad, words that negated her experience held her imprisoned in a sterile world devoid of human attachment and warmth.

Broken nails scratched the table creating a grating noise that drew a pair of stony hazel eyes to stare at her worn out face. She had the beauty of a wilted rose on a hot summer day. Sad and forlorn but the thorns were still there to prick and draw blood. She was in a mad house but still held on to her story with the tenacity of a stubborn crab.

Green eyes glared back at the cold hazel eyes of the psychiatrist and she rapped the hard table with a loud bang and said “I’m telling you what I told that fat buffoon of a cop, I was raped by an angel!”

The psychiatrist who was listening to her with half an ear stared at her pen that had stopped writing, shook it hard and watched the ink fly and splatter on the pristine white walls.

She got up from her chair and traced the thin streak of ink and said in a shaking voice “His blood splashed on the walls. It was cherry red like human blood and white feathers exploded in the air like those torn out of a pillow. They flew and fell around me like snow falling from heaven. Soft and red around the edges, their purity was corrupted by these hands.”

She stared down at her worn out hands and continued huskily “I shot him but I had no choice. It was rape I tell you, even though I came to enjoy his attentions. He was a gentle lover but he always took me without my consent. That is rape, isn’t it?” Her mad eyes beseeched a confirmation.

Expressionless eyes stared back at her and a deadpan voice replied “Yes that sounds like rape but tell me Psyche, if you shot him where is the body?”

Sighing, Psyche walked back to the table and sat down on the chair like a weary old lady and whispered “He stared at me with such wounded eyes as if I had betrayed him. I saw the love and deep sorrow mingle in his china blue eyes and tears that shined like diamonds streamed down his cheeks. It was then that I knew that I had made the worst mistake of my life for I loved him too but it was too late, just too damn fucking late.”

The psychiatrist tilted her head, pressed the nib on the paper, drew the ink out and repeated the question “You said you shot him but then what happened to his body?”

Shifting on her hard chair Psyche cleared her throat in irritation and answered “Didn’t your mama read you fairy tales? Angels don’t die, they have eternal lives or at least they live till we lose faith in them.”

A smile broke through the cool façade and the psychiatrist asked in a slightly amused voice “So what happened to him? Did he just disappear into thin air?”

Rubbing a weary hand across her eyes she took a deep breath and replied “No he flew out of the window.”

The psychiatrist chuckled and said “If I didn’t know better I’d believe you.”

Folding her arms under her ample breasts in a defensive mode, Psyche responded “I don’t know what happened. There was a blinding light and every fiber of my body felt little needles of pain pierce through my flesh and I fainted.”

“So I take it you don’t know what happened to him.” Seeing her patient shake her head she continued writing on her papers and asked “According to your testimony to the police when you regained consciousness there was someone else who apparently tortured you.”

Psyche narrowed her eyes and snapped at the doctor “I’m sure somewhere in those neatly typed papers the name of the person is given. Why are you asking me questions to which the answers are already there?”

“Do you know the name of the person who tortured you?”

Knowing that the name of her torturer basically landed her in a mental hospital Psyche still clung to the events that transpired in the isolated Alaskan cabin. Taking a deep breath she answered “It was Aphrodite who tortured me.”

Not waiting for the doctor’s response she banged her fist on the table and said “I’m not mad. That’s what happened. She appeared to me and tortured me in all kinds of inhuman ways.”

The doctor’s eye fell on the angry scar on her wrist and Psyche covered it with her sleeve and whispered softly, “She slit my wrist. I’m not suicidal; I’m not prone to taking my own life.”

Tapping the pen against her thin lips the doctor replied, “But according to your sister – Cybele when she found you lying on the floor with that slit, you kept whispering that you didn’t want to live.”

“She didn’t hear me say the rest of the words. I said that I didn’t want to live without my love, my darling Cupid.” She wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock gently. “Aphrodite said that if I even dared to take his name then pain would shake my body like Zeus’ thunder rumbles the earth. And I have a massive migraine coming on. I need a painkiller.”

Putting the cap back on her pen the doctor looked at the curled up form rocking back and forth on the chair. Sympathy slowly sneaked into her heart. She really wasn’t cut out for this profession. Day in and day out she dealt with people with mental sickness and yet hadn’t been able to stay detached from the pain some of the patients and their family went through.

Psyche and her family were one such case. Psyche seemed to suffer from schizophrenia and was hypochondriac. She gulped down pain killers as if they were candy pills and still demanded more. Her family seemed to be beaten down with guilt and their visits became far and between, unable to deal with Psyche’s wretched state.

She wondered if some electric jolts would reconnect the circuitry in Psyche’s brain. Personally she hated to see anyone go under the ‘hot correctional mama’ as the technicians had named the machine. Seeing the electric jolts pulse through the soft human flesh seemed to be barbaric and she didn’t want to subject such a delicate flower to that sort of harsh treatment.

Looking at the pitiful figure the doctor wondered how she might be able to reach out and get her to think clearly.

Through the fog of pain and sorrow Psyche felt the doctor reach over and touch her arm impulsively.

“Did you know that the cops found a few white feathers?”

A light sparked in the wretched eyes and she whispered “So they know it’s true. Then they must know that I’m not mad.”

Grabbing hold of the doctor’s hand she frantically stared into the doctor’s eyes and said “His feathers were too big to be of any bird. They realized that, didn’t they? And still they sent me to a nut house. You have to take me out of here.”

Nails bit into delicate skin and she continued to speak in a harsh whisper “I have to finish the tasks she had given me. If I don’t, then I will never see him again. I need to get out of here. Please let me go.”

The doctor disengaged her mangled hand and said “We can’t keep you here indefinitely and the feathers are a mystery. As you said - too big to belong to any bird and they even ran tests on it and the DNA doesn’t match anything on this earth.”

Psyche banged her fist against the table making the doctor take an involuntary jump.

“Morons! You are all fucking idiots. Doesn’t that prove anything to you? What the fuck do you people need? Do you want Aphrodite herself to come to you fools and to certify my experience?”

Seeing the doctor twitch with nervousness, Psyche tried to push her anger down to a dark place and lock it with the toughest sane key she could find in her fragmenting mind. Rubbing her eyes with shaking hands she said “Look, I’m not going to go crazy on you . At some vague level you must have realized that there is some grain of truth in my story. So why don’t you release me in your care and I will prove it you. What do you say?”

The doctor licked her lips and Psyche could see the calculations going on in the practical mind. To sweeten the deal she added “Transportation will not be a problem - my private plane will take us to the cabin.”

Seeing the surprised expression in the psychiatrist’s eyes she laughed and said “My father is one of the richest industrialists in America but I don’t need his money as my mother had left me a rich woman in my own right after her death. So what will it be?”

Tilting her head, the doctor asked “But your family might object and….”

“And do what? I’m going to be in your care and believe me I will make it worth your while. You will have more than enough money to start your practice. Now let us settle this once and for all. How soon can we get out of this place?”

Realizing that she was no longer in control of the situation the doctor made a token protest. “This isn’t right. You need to calm down and let’s talk this over in a sensible fashion.”

Being the daughter of a shrewd tycoon Psyche had seen enough people wavering under her father’s steely resolve and saw the same confused look on the doctor’s face.

Leaning back against her chair she folded her arms and said in a firm voice “This is a one time offer doc. The window of opportunity is small and if you take it your life will change. So don’t waste my time or yours. What will it be?”

Seeing her patient change from a frustrated doe to an angry tigress the doctor wasn’t too sure of her emotional condition but her offer was too sweet to refuse. She reasoned with herself that Psyche was a harmless person and that maybe the mystery of the feathers would be solved. The money part she didn’t even want to admit to herself but knew that it would be the stepping stone for her career.

Squaring her shoulders she smiled up at Psyche and said “When do we leave?”

Chapter2

Psyche reached across the passageway and touched the terrified doctor’s white knuckles and said in a reassuring tone “This won’t take long. Adam is one of our best pilots. He has flown us through the worst storms and as you can see the skies are clear today.”

Taking a deep breath the doctor closed her eyes and tried not to think of the loud engine noise or the rush of wheels below her feet that eagerly rushed up the run way to take flight. Biting her lip she tried not to think of a clear blue sky when her father’s crop duster came crashing down on the fields he loved so much.

Beads of sweat trickled down her temples and she tried to block out the image of the plane twirling down the skies, an out of control ballerina dancing to her death.

A cry left her lips as the plane took to air effortlessly and she felt soft fingers in twine with her clammy fingers. Startled she opened her eyes and saw a pair of sympathetic eyes look into hers. “It never is easy to face one’s demons head long. Losing your father in a crash was bad enough but to witness it must have been the worst kind of shit a twelve year old could have gone through.”

Anger clouded her eyes and before she could say anything Psyche stared into the doctor’s eyes and said softly “Did you really think my father would have let me go in your care without knowing your entire history, Melissa? May I call you Melissa? The formality has been getting on my nerves, anyways you don’t seem to be more than a year or two older than me -maybe we can be even be friends by the end of this trip.” Smiling impishly, she continued “Look at you now, all that anger has taken away the fear.”

Melissa tried to look composed and smoothing her skirt over her knees she said “Since when have you known about my father?”

A shrewd smile spread across Psyche’s face making Melissa wonder how the hell she ever thought that this woman could be a vulnerable lamb in need of her protection. She seemed quite capable of taking up any angry goddess.

Settling back against the plush seat Psyche answered coolly “I’ve known since yesterday. To tell you the truth I wouldn’t have known if dad hadn’t thrown the file on my face to prove to me how unstable you might be because of your past.”

Melissa opened her mouth in surprise and before she could say anything Psyche held a hand up and said “Hear me out. We need to have an honest relationship because of what we will be facing soon and by god! it’s not going to be easy for either one of us and the last thing we would need is the gnawing presence of distrust. So here is the unvarnished truth. Yesterday while I was packing for our trip dad came over and told me to try out some other psychiatrist, who was his stooge, and when I disagreed he tried to tell me that you might be a wee bit warped as you lost your dad in a crash and then your mom abandoned you in the care of your grandmother.”

Sighing Psyche stared out of the window and continued “Suffice to say I threw him and the file out. For once he couldn’t do anything since I had been officially released from the hospital and I know he loves me a lot but sometimes another word for love is suffocation. Anyhow I hope you can forgive my father, he loves to micro manage, and that’s what made him rich and miserable at the same time.”

Staring at the pensive profile of Psyche, Melissa wondered what she had let herself into. She was used to a sedate life unlike Psyche’s life which seemed to be full of high drama.

Shaking her head she rebuked herself for being a chicken and she asked Psyche a question “We never really got around to discussing how Cupid came into your life.”

A whimsical smile spread across Psyche’s face and she stretched her long jean clad legs and answered “Oh it’s a long story and that too a bitter sweet one and I have all the time to tell it to you provided you are willing to listen.”

Melissa gave a little laugh and said “I wouldn’t be a psychiatrist if I didn’t like stories would I?”

A warm fire lit in the emerald eyes and Psyche smiled back igniting the dormant beauty in her features, making Melissa draw a breath in.

Softly Psyche began to narrate her story. Eyes closed she began to re- trace the scenes in her mind’s eye as words left her mouth and pain began to seep through her bruised heart again.

“It was supposed to be a time for my heart to heal. My father had sent me to the cabin to get over a cad who had made me fall in love with him and then taken pictures of me in the shower and sold them to the tabloids.”

She laughed and shook her head at the thought of herself then “I had thought my world had come to an end, the love of my life had betrayed me. What a laugh…..that was just an infatuation but then I still have to respect the tears I shed over him. I don’t think you need to know his name as it’s of no relevance.”

Staring at her snowy tennis shoes she continued talking “The cabin had always been my sanctuary. It has all the modern conveniences and yet retains a rustic feel. It’s there that I feel one with nature.” A whimsical smile touched her lips and she sighed and said “Well I used to feel in tune with nature there but then things changed pretty soon. The first night itself I knew things were different. My dreams became more erotic and even when I woke up they felt so real. Don’t you get that feeling sometimes in the mornings when you wake up? The tentacles still clinging to the conscious mind and you can still feel the passions as if they were of the day before and not of the unconscious mind?”

Melissa nodded but did not interfere in the story.

“Well my dreams still felt too real to be shrugged off as dreams for I woke up with a gigantic climax on the first night itself with a loud gasp. I shrugged off that dream but by the third day of my stay I was creeped out, I was no sexually starved babe and don’t get me wrong I loved the orgasms but you do agree it was unusual right?”

Smiling in affirmation Melissa asked “So were they really graphic dreams?”

Laughing Psyche answered “That’s the whole point. They weren’t dreams but real. How do I explain it to you? I was always seduced in my sleep. It was something like that movie called Entity.”

Melissa raised an eyebrow at the statement and Psyche leaned forward and said “Please don’t underestimate my intellect by thinking that I made it up from that tacky movie. I was just making an analogy.”

Leaning back she continued “It was always so real. I felt his hot kisses all over my body. The tug of his lips on my nipples , pulling them to hard peeks, the rasp of his tongue waking up my pussy or those delightful hands weaving their magic on my body bringing it to a point of delicious peek making me cry out for more and yet wanting it to stop.”

Spraying her clammy hands on her supple thighs she bit down on her lips remembering the hot nights “The first two nights he did not penetrate me – he just seduced me with his tongue and I just lay there mired in the cauldron of pleasure. Mornings came with me feeling all contented and happy like the Cheshire cat and its bowl of cream instead of moping over the bastard who conned me. So it was a weird situation and I had also begun to think that my mind was playing games with me as I was beginning to look forward to the nights, wishing the days to pass faster.”

Melissa tried to keep a neutral face and wished she had a recorder to tape the narration but knew that would bring the defenses up higher than the iron curtain so she tried to act as if it was a normal conversation between two people.

“When did you realize he was for real?” she asked, just as the plane bumped over an air pocket. She gulped a breath in suddenly reminded of her fear.

Shaking her head at the doctor’s pale expression she continued talking “I think I realized that he was real when he penetrated me on the third night. You see whenever I dreamt of sex I never ever felt the real penetration and always woke up unsatisfied but his cock felt so hard and real in me. The pounding of the cock made the sensations spread fires up my womb and I felt as if my whole body would erupt in flames of pleasure. It was as if I was having multi- orgasms in a single orgasm. And what’s more I felt his body under my hands.”

Caught up in the story Melissa found herself visualizing Psyche in bed with her ardent lover. She imagined Psyche’s naked beauty, lying on pelts of fur, being tormented by a golden god and the image made her clit swell up in sweet desire. Her mind conjured up the fingers caressing the muscled back and hips as the copulation reached its zenith. Feeling like a voyeur she couldn’t look at Psyche in the eye and yet she knew it was normal to feel so as Psyche was a good narrator.

Pulling a little pillow behind her back she asked “You mean to tell me you woke up and felt him in you?”

Shaking her head Psyche answered “No, I didn’t wake up but then the dreams had become as real as my waking moments. His body was as tangible as this glass of water.”

Holding up the glass she stared at the liquid “But I realized I wasn’t going crazy when I woke up to feel the semen between my legs. That’s when I got really scared, it was happening for real, it wasn’t some sort of mind fuck but the real deal. I went totally hysterical and felt reality fracture right before my very eyes.”

Anguish filled her eyes as she remembered her crazed moments “You don’t know how violated I felt. The agony of knowing that I had been raped by some entity, which did not exist in this world, was pure torture. I just lay in bed feeling the sticky white semen in my vagina and the horror of its existence had me frozen in horror. And when the tears came I curled into a ball and howled. Never had I felt so alone, so beaten and hollow. The sheets smelt of him and I wanted to burn them and yet hold them close. The paradox of emotions sent me over the edge and I grabbed the sheets and threw them out of the window.”

Unable to act as a detached doctor, Melissa reached out and took one of Psyche’s hands in hers and squeezed it. Letting her hand remain in Melissa’s grasp she continued talking “I ran out of the cabin to the shed where we kept gas for the generator and made a bonfire of the sheets. There I stood buck naked, watching them burn and just then the wind blew taking one of the burning sheets to the heavens and I screamed, screamed out the shame, the violation , the pain , the inconsolable grief that drove me crazy.”