Vassia woke the next morning, amazed at how rested she felt. Though she had slept all night at the water's edge, in its embrace, she felt as if she'd slept in a feather bed, and she was neither hungry nor thirsty.
Remembering how she had spent her first hour in Elysium, however, flooded her with shame. She'd had no experience in making love in her short life thus far beyond some childish games played under the trees after sundown, kissing and touching, and once, just once on the night of her eighteenth birthday, feeling a man's cock inside her for a few clumsy thrusts before the effort was abandoned with a little embarrassment. For the young man had been filled with fear at having caught something so precious in so unceremonious a way, and she had been surprised by his awkwardness, so much at odds with the lovers of her imagination.
Now her imagination had come to life, and more so, in the spirit of the water, who had reduced her so readily to a slavish object of his gratification, in a way that had filled her with lust beyond even that which she, in her darkest fantasies, had ever imagined. So it was her turn now to feel afraid and ashamed at what she had, for a moment at least, become. Had she diminished her dignity? Yes, greatly, and yet willingly, deriving profound satisfaction from it. Had she given herself over to her degrading, animalistic desires? Yes, completely, and it had filled her with holy light. Should she be ashamed or amazed? For now she was both, and mostly thought of burying the whole experience and returning quickly to her own world, glad to never be expected to speak of what transpired here.
Still, after dressing hastily once more in her simple gown, she could not help but look one last time in the clear waters of the pool with a feeling something like gratitude. But she blushed then and ran off through the trees.
She ran quickly through the velvet fields back to the altar where she had awoken, and lay upon it, thinking perhaps that she would fall asleep and return again to the real world.
"Ah," said a throaty, feminine voice, "what a sweet sacrifice this is."
Vassia leapt back up to her feet and saw a figure had emerged from the bushes that crowded the back side of the hill. It was a voluptuous woman with golden skin and black hair: skin so brightly gold and hair so deeply black that immediately Vassia knew this was another spirit, or perhaps a god, for she was beautiful beyond compare, and her breasts and waist and thighs seemed those of a lecherous sculpture designed to entice all who looked at it. Vassia felt a flush of fear and shame again as heat flooded her cheeks and her groin.
"No need to jump so, little doe," the woman said easily. "You were perfect lying right there."
Vassia could find no response to this, but stood with her hands clenched.
"Be at ease, my doe. I've come to invite you to a feast of honor among the gods."
The dress the woman wore was lighter than the finest silk, and shimmered in the light. It seemed both silver and bronze, and Vassia would have coveted it greatly, except it was more a nightgown, so thin that the breeze easily pressed it into the woman's body, showing her nipples and every curve of her body. Vassia continued to blush and stare at the open lewdness of the woman, out here in the daylit fields.
She seemed to catch her staring, and smiled a little laughingly. "You are quite innocent, aren't you? But there is nothing to fear. This is a women's feast, and we will show you there is no shame in standing proud in who we are. Come now, I know you will not decline."
She held forth a golden goblet that Vassia had not noticed before. Vassia was a little afraid, but reasoned to herself, I have been sent here as a special honor to live a short time among the gods, so how can I refuse her offer to join them? The creature of the pool tempted me, but now I am safe with those who are meant to receive me and teach me of their higher ways. I will be a polite guest and careful student.
So she took the goblet and sipped a little from the clear liquid in it. It tasted like the clearest dew of the forest, with a little sweetness, and she eagerly drank the rest before blushing again, thinking it rude to drink the cup so quickly. But the woman only smiled knowingly and said, "Come, little doe, I have much more with us in the pavilion." She held out her hand. The woman, like most every adult Vassia had met, was taller than her, and her ease and confidence calmed Vassia's anxiety, so she took her hand and let herself be led down a little path among the brambles down the northern face of the hill.
Down at the bottom of the hill, a carriage awaited. It was made all of what looked like white porcelain, like it was made from pure frost. A horse was hitched to it, but the horse was hardly visible. It seemed a celestial steed, existing almost as pure light or mist. Vassia's heart rose at the beauty of the horse and its carriage, and the thought that she was being brought to ride in it. She felt like a child on a festival day, going to ride in one of the farmers' carts all dressed in ribbons. The feast at the temple had seemed heavenly: what delights awaited her at this feast of the gods? And the idea of it being a women's feast made her feel safe and at home, for it made her think of when she and her girl friends in her hometown would sometimes gather just themselves for a picnic in a quiet place, and let their hair out, and forget about appearances and customs for a while.This tall, beautiful goddess struck her with apprehension and fascination, but she also felt that same comfort in her presence, like she would be accepted in whatever way she acted or appeared.
The woman opened the carriage for her and offered a delicate and tender hand to help her into her seat. Then she entered also and sat opposite her. The carriage was a little small, and their knees couldn't help but brush one another. Vassia felt awed and humbled by the nobility of the woman, her unearthly beauty, and most of all her the lewd fabric of her dress, which was thinner and more liquid than a night slip. She is not embarrassed, so why should I be? Vassia thought. The gods do not think of such things.
The horse evidently began to walk, for the carriage began gliding across the meadow as if on a breeze. The wheels did not seem to touch the ground, and soon they were going at a thrilling pace, and Vassia looked out the window with glee.
"Such a sweet child," said the melodious voice. "I have some more nectar here in the carriage. You must drink all you can before we arrive. Do not be afraid to show your thirst, for thirsting after the nectar of the gods does us honor."
