Stolen Goddess

An unusually warm and sunny autumn day. Renegade leaves clinging to the dry gray branches. Joel picked up his pace, seeing the meadow up ahead between the trees. He had thought of nothing but Mina all day.

Halting in his steps at the very edge of the meadow, he saw how tall the little green shoots had grown since yesterday evening; they were now halfway up his shin, each spaced about a foot from each other, as if planted deliberately by human hands. He had studied botany; his mother always had a green thumb; never in his life had he seen a plant like this, whose leaves were starting to define themselves. They were all that grew in the meadow, among dry, yellow matted grass and fallen leaves.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he felt a flutter in his stomach. He crossed the meadow and headed into the part of the woods where Mina's cave overlooked the icy creek. He shivered—from the cold?—as he stepped into the creek to clear the stone precipice that was something like a gateway to Mina's lair.

There: there was Mina. Her bare back to him. She turned her head so that her lovely profile showed, and she smiled, looking cunningly pleased that Joel had showed up. She was sitting on the ground in the little cave, the black-red robes bunched up over her hips and thighs. She slowly brushed her long black hair. Her posture, her demeanor showed that she was truly a goddess.

Joel knelt behind her, snaked his arms to her front, and placed his hands onto her warm breasts. Kissed the back of her head, the black hair soft and fragrant. It pained him that she was so nonchalant about his arrival, that she continued to brush her hair so peacefully, while he was wild with lust.

He pressed his mouth against her ear, and whispered depraved things. He told her how he couldn't concentrate all day, because he thought of nothing but placing his hard cock between her tits, and fucking them, until he shot his seed onto her face. He pinched her nipples, rolled them around between his fingertips, then slid his hand down into her robes....

Before he could finger that warm, wet cleft, she stood with all the grace befitting a goddess.

She turned to face him. He looked up in awe at her proud stature, the shoulders held back as only a high-class lady does, her breasts so pert and firm that they seemed sculpted from blushing stone, the robes accentuating her classic paleness.

"You've known my body well enough," she said, and here she lifted her robes with one hand, slowly, revealing her leg, then her hip, and Joel imagined he saw the delicious shadow between her legs. She stepped toward his seated figure before lifting the robes completely above her hips. Stood over him, legs to either side of him. She reached down, spread the lips of her pussy with her fingers, offering herself.

He tasted of it obediently. Kissing her erect clit. He held the back of her thighs, his lips remaining tender despite all their hunger for that warm, slick flesh. His tongue slid up and down the fissure, and he listened to the music of her quickening breath.

"I have not known your body enough for my satisfaction," he said.

She ran her fingers through his hair as he devoured her pussy. "My meaning was that perhaps we should put aside our fleshy introduction in favor of the answers you seek. And for the unveiling of my purpose for you."

He didn't hear her words, just the honey-thick voice. His tongue flicked against her clit. He wanted her to cum like that, standing above him, her pussy throbbing against his mouth. But to his dismay she stepped back. For a fleeting moment he thought he might lunge at her, push her onto her back, and take her by force; but his fervor dampened when he saw her grim face.

She knelt before him. Black wispy hair like a see-through veil over her breasts. Her eyes were ice-blue again.

"Your purpose for me? What do you mean?"

He suddenly felt nauseous. A sense of doom thickened the air like the smell of burning leaves. It seemed her foreboding countenance emitted some kind of sordid sound, like an off-key violin, or the screech of some deadly spider, if he could imagine anything like that. Her piercing gaze made his hairs stand.

"Joel, you have found me. You have stumbled upon my prison. I am asking you, kind angel"—she stroked his face gently—"to free me."

"Free you?" He dared to look directly into her eyes. He thought of how sad she sometimes looked. "Free you from what?"

"From the evil bond that holds me eternally. I have already told you, that I am a goddess by unfortunate circumstances. I no longer desire this divine status, nor have I ever wanted it. I want to be a mortal again. I want to live out the remainder of my life as a mortal, and to die, and to be at peace, away from his constant gaze."

Joel stuttered. He didn't know where to start. He was so frozen that he almost believed that he had lost his voice.

"Do not worry, do not worry," she purred, with care in her eyes. As she sat down on his lap, he saw the brown suddenly flooding back into her eyes, billowing like ink. Her gaze was now warm and concerned; he preferred her that way. Static flowed through him when he thought of those sharp blue eyes.

"How? How can I free you?" Joel asked.

"That is a matter of concern," she said. "I myself do not know. Men have tried and failed throughout the centuries...those unlucky few who have stumbled upon me have failed in many different ways. Some did not love me enough to help me; some were wicked or unworthy of my love, so I chose not to appear to them and ask their help; some were too dull or too cowardly to survive the ordeal; and sometimes, like the unfortunate frog prince of children's fairy tales, I must wait for years and years for someone to stumble upon me. Once, I waited three hundred years before I saw a man. And even then, I could not appear to him, because it was not the death of the seasons."

"The death of the seasons?"

"Yes. Your civilization has heard a certain tale for many centuries, which I presume was cheaply robbed from my experience. The tale of Persephone and Hades. That wretched woman is released from the Underworld every Spring, as promised by her husband, the Lord of the Underworld. No; that tale is nowhere near the truth, nowhere near as horrible as what really happened to me."

"What? What happened to you?"

She sighed, a breath rushing over him that had the melancholy smell of flowers over a grave. He knew she couldn't bring herself to tell the story just yet.

Joel sat, frozen. He thought of the Greek tales he had studied in high school. The whimsical Persephone, the villainous Lord of the Underworld. He was too overwhelmed by the gravity of it all that he almost forgot to pity Mina. Once, she had probably been a normal, every-day person like him.

He examined her face, and wondered what her life had been like. He wanted to ask; but she beat him to it.

"Yes, I was just an ordinary girl. More than ordinary. I was just the daughter of a priest and priestess, and I wasn't a notable person in society. I just existed. I do not know why the Lord of the Underworld wanted me."

"You do not know?" Joel said. "I believe anyone would want you." He stroked her breast, then lowered his mouth onto the nipple. She urged him closer with her arms. "Tell me more," he said.

She squirmed, obviously aroused by the sucking on her breast. "He...he punishes me. For my disobedience," she said.

"Disobedience?"

"Yes. At my attempts to escape. I do not mean to hurt you, but I will tell you that I have seduced many men, recruited them for my cause. Each time I return to the Underworld, he punishes me for that. Ties me down with a lasso of fire, whips me, does all sorts of horrid things to me, so that by the end of summer, I am nothing but a few flecks of flesh clinging to bone. But I am regenerated to return to earth in the Autumn, and thus I go back down to Hell again, whole, to be tortured again. He does not understand that by punishing me, it just makes me try harder to escape."

Joel backed his head away from her breast. "You have seduced me for your cause?" He did not want to admit that he was deeply hurt by that. That he was just one of the many men she sexed, and that he wasn't anything special. Perhaps his fate would be the same as all the others; and what was that?

Seeing the concern in his eyes, Mina said: "You must not believe that you aren't significant to me. I sense something special in you. You're the most intelligent man I've known. And your personality—it is just like mine. Perhaps you are like the princess who has finally come to kiss the frog prince. Do not, for a moment, think you are less important, or even as important, than the rest of the men who have stumbled upon my web. I sense my freedom in you; and thus, I hold you in the highest regard."

This comforted him somewhat. Well, no matter, he was already caught in her web. There was no escaping her. He accepted his dark situation.

"Enough of this for now," Joel said, as he bent down to lick her nipple. I will help you, even if it costs my life. I don't think I have a choice. At least, I think you can offer me some kind of comfort in return."

"Yes," she said, suddenly smiling brightly. "I can give you all the comfort you want! And what's more, is that I want to be your wife, once I am mortal again."

Joel pondered this and grinned at her. He liked that thought; imagined what it would be like to show off this gorgeous woman to all the world.

He lay back, tugged at her, so that she straddled him, and she dipped her tongue into his open mouth. "Fuck me," he said. "Fuck my cock and I'll do anything you want me to. I'll defy the Dark Lord himself if you would just let me inside of you."

She bent down, her black hair raining down onto his face, and she whispered in his ear: "That, my beautiful boy, is what I fear. That you will have to face him. See his horrid countenance. Fight him for me. My poor boy, I pity the dreadful task ahead of you. But"—she ground her crotch into his hard cock—"I will reward you greatly."