by Cerys du Lys
“Thank you.”
Aidon lifted her hand, kissing the marks on her wrists from the binding. Persephone watched him, his tongue flicking the inside of her wrist, making her shiver. Her skin was as soft and delicate as papyrus and she bruised very easily. Their eyes locked and his glowed a deep, warm amber in the darkness, something she hadn’t noticed before.
“It hurts…” She rubbed at her wrist. His hands swallowed her forearm as he massaged her. He bent to kiss the inside of her arm up to her elbow. Persephone’s breath came faster as she observed him. He pressed himself against her, tracing her mouth with his finger, his eyes following the line of her lips.
He kissed her lightly, licking the corner of her mouth. “You taste like liquid sunshine.”
She giggled and blushed. He kissed her again, his tongue pressing between her lips, tasting her more deeply. Persephone pushed against his chest with her hands, fighting his passion, but it was a useless gesture. He slid his leg over hers, the weight of him crushing her.
“No!” She turned her head and gasped for breath, twisting beneath him. Her refusal made him rougher and he took her wrists in his hand, lifting them above her head as he sucked at the tender flesh of her throat. She felt the hard heat of his manhood against the soft flesh of her thigh and she shuddered, struggling for her freedom.
She willed herself to hold still while he tongued his way to her breasts. His mouth covered her delicate pink nipple, sucking hard. She arched her back, moaning, and she felt him smile. He let her wrists go so he could fill his hands with her breasts, kneading them, pressing them together.
Persephone held her breath, her eyes scanning the perimeter of the darkened room, looking for the hint of a door. She glimpsed a large bowl brimming with fruit on a table next to the bed.
His tongue traced circles down her belly and she opened her legs for him. He looked up at her in wonder, and she smiled. Grabbing her hips, he breathed in the scent of her before leaning in to taste the sweet nectar flowing between her legs. Persephone whimpered, ignoring the thought that she didn’t want this. With his tongue moving there, she forgot everything. When his finger found the entrance to her heaven, she remembered, and found her strength.
Persephone’s legs had all her leverage and she used them, planting her heels against his shoulders and pushing hard. She didn’t succeed in moving him, but her body launched upwards on the bed. Rolling to the side, she bolted in the direction Hypnos had disappeared. She heard him behind her as the handle slid in her hand. Locked! She turned, breathless, frantically searching for another exit. Then Aidon was upon her, his eyes blazing the color of fire.
He caught her arm, twisting it behind her and pressing her hard against the door. “Don’t move!”
“No!” She screamed.
His mouth moved against her hair as his body crushed her with the weight of the world. “I am very patient, Persephone, but you have just pushed me past my limit!”
“I’m sorry!” Her voice was a reedy hiss, but she sensed it was too late. He grabbed the back of her head, pulling her by her hair. She screamed again, this time in pain and shock. He used his body as a restraining device, flattening her belly against a cold slab of wall.
“What have I offered you that is so awful?” He reached for a restraint shackled to the wall, lifted her wrist and clicked the lock into place. “Why would you want to leave me?” Persephone began struggling harder, but the angry thrust of him against her sent the air from her lungs. “There are fields to play in here.” He grabbed her other wrist. CLICK. The sound of the second restraint closed her eyes in resignation.
Aidon’s breath was labored now as he pulled her legs apart, reaching for the manacles attached to the wall near the floor. “There are wonders here, Persephone. Riches beyond imagination. I am offering them to you.” CLICK. One leg was secure.
Persephone looked up at the chains holding her. Thick and heavy, they allowed her enough leeway to bring her hands together above her head, but that was all.
CLICK. “Am I so hideous?” Aidon looked up at her, one knee on the floor at the last restraining point.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. The look on his face was pained. Standing, Aidon ran a hand down her back and the golden cascade of her hair. His touch was firm, but not rough. He cupped the globe of her bottom and tightly squeezed. “You are mine, Persephone.”
Pressing her forehead to the wall, she closed her eyes and whispered, “No.” She heard him moving around the room, and endeavored to see, but couldn’t.
Aidon’s voice came from the other end of the room. “The furies have these things…called scourges. Do you know what they are?” She heard cupboards or drawers being opened and closed. He went on as if she had responded to him. “They’re whips, made of dozens of leather strips, with a brass tip on each end.” His voice grew more immediate. “Tisi...she has a scourge with scorpions on each tip.” Her heart raced, her mouth turning dry. The world felt like it tilted sideways. She pulled hard on the manacles, but there was no give. “Creative girl, that one.” His voice was right behind her now, but she couldn’t turn her head far enough in either direction to see him.
Persephone moaned, and pleaded with him. “Please, don’t. Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, Aidon, please—” She jumped when she felt soft, leather tendrils trailing over her shoulder.
“This isn’t a scourge.” He traced the thick, heavy straps over her back and bottom. “Just a cat o’nine tails. It won’t tear the flesh from you.”
Persephone’s whole body trembled, her mind reeling. “Aidon, no, please—”
“But when I am through…” Aidon slid his hand under the weight of her hair, slipping it over her shoulder to expose her back and bottom completely. “You will be saying yes.”
“No!” She willed herself not to scream. There seemed no use. Still, the first strike across her bare back shocked her. She whimpered, moving as far as the chains would allow away from the source of the blow. Two more quick smacks to her bottom followed, stinging her flesh. Tears sprung to her eyes.
“You are mine, Persephone.” Aidon’s voice attempted to soothe or seduce, she wasn’t sure which. She clung to it in the darkness.
“No!” Another crack of the whip needled her upper thighs. She writhed, straining against the manacles, twisting her wrists, hoping her slight frame and the fine sheen of sweat over her body might allow her to slip out of them. It was no use.
“Yes, bright one.” His voice sounded like darkness itself. Another blow fell, this one wrapping around her hip, finding new territory to burn. She bit her lip to keep from screaming and tasted her own blood. The next three strokes from the whip wrenched another hoarse “No!” from her throat.
Aidon’s breath came in labored bursts, as if beating her was quite a chore. “Yes, love. You will be my queen.” His hand moved over her bottom and Persephone gasped at the sensation, the caress cooling the heat of her raw flesh. It was heavenly and she sighed, arching her back. Her mind screamed no, but her body responded in spite of her inner protests. Her bottom burned and the cool caress of his hand was welcome respite. She recognized the familiar, swelling pulse between her thighs and the tell-tale wetness.
“Yes.” He slipped his hand down one of her thighs, opening them. “Say yes.”
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut against it, and managed another strangled, “No!” I’m Persephone, the Goddess of Spring, the daughter of Demeter! I’m not meant for this humiliation, this degradation!
Aidon sighed, backing away from her again. Her whole body stiffened in anticipation. The lashes began, landing again and again on the soft, rounded flesh of her behind until she felt her cheeks on fire. Every stroke broke down her defenses, stripping away the façade. The good girl she was supposed to be, the sweet, innocent maiden, was melting in the heat of her beating.
She willed herself not to scream, and she managed, biting the inside of her cheek and whimpering. She lost count of the blows. She lost tra
ck of the time. She lost sight of anything but the darkness behind her eyes. She lost herself. She was no longer her mother’s daughter—Persephone the Virgin Goddess of Spring—she was more than that and nothing all at once.
The feel of the whip sent the harsh realization through her body in a way that nothing else ever had. The sting turned to a bright red heat, and her skin tingled with new life as Aidon brought the cat o’nine tails down across her pale flesh. Something was happening. Her body was responding, and she had no control over it. She began to writhe under the leather straps, and every blow made her squirm and arch back for more.
She finally understood the longing for freedom she had felt. She had never known anything like this. Athena and Artemis and even her mother, Demeter, had found their versions in their own strong, capable independence. But Persephone had always felt something lacking in it. Now it was clear.
She didn’t want to belong to her mother, or even to herself. She wanted to belong to a man—to be tamed, taken, and forced to surrender. Her freedom was in every harsh caress, the breaking down of everything she believed she was, until she was finally stripped bare and defenseless. It was only when this realization came to her, when it seeped through the cracks in her outer veneer like water trickling in through the bursting seams of a dam, that Aidon ceased.
Just when she thought he would never stop, that the world would go on this way in a red, thrashing haze forever, the clatter of the wooden handle upon the black stone floor reached her ears. Somehow he must have known, have sensed her epiphany. Dazed and panting, she pressed her hot, tear-stained cheek to the wall. The glow of her cheeks and her behind matched the heat between her legs. There was a thick pulse beating there, an ache that demanded attention.
“Sephie.” His breath moved coolness over the flushed skin of her neck. “Say yes.”
Persephone lowered her head, breathing hard, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She was helpless. Strung up by him. Whipped by him. At his mercy. There was nothing she could do to stop this. Nothing. The certainty shuddered through her and made the steady throb at her core even stronger.
Aidon slipped his hand down her back, over the searing flesh of her bottom, and his fingers eased between her legs, probing there. Her wetness was a betrayal, flowing beyond her borders and onto her thighs. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He brought his fingers to his lips, sucking at her juices. He leaned in to capture her mouth. “Tell me. The truth.”
Persephone shook her head, pursing her lips against his kiss, denying it. Aidon’s hand caressed the hot, reddened skin of her behind, making her shiver. He gave her a wicked smile and then brought his hand down hard, smacking her soundly. She gasped, startled at the sensation.
“I had sought to punish you,” he murmured, trailing his fingers down the side of her hip. “But it seems this pain pleases you.” Again his hand met the soft skin of her behind with a resounding slap and Persephone jumped, hissing air through her teeth. “There is often a fine line, between pleasure and pain, life and death. Did you know that, little one?” Persephone shook her head and moaned as his hand struck again, the reverberation rumbling her whole pelvis.
“It is an art, this pleasure-making from pain.” His hand lost itself in her hair and then he pulled, jerking her head back so his mouth pressed to her ear. She swallowed hard, feeling his big body pushing against hers. The cold, black obsidian bit her flesh as he used his mass to keep her there, his hand still clenched into a fist in her hair. “Not many know how to do so, and many more do not care for it.”
His knee parted her thighs from behind, forcing her to spread her legs. Persephone gasped, trembling under him. He kissed her hard, his lips bruising, his tongue invading. She moaned, her body arching into his as she kissed him back, twisting in his grip and finding she could not resist him.
When the kiss ended, his eyes glowed in the dimness, and he had a small, satisfied smile on his face. “You like the struggle, don’t you?” He leaned into her small form until she could barely breathe, crushing her. She squirmed underneath him. The more she twisted, the tighter he held her. Persephone finally gave up, breathless and flushed, the heat between her legs resting solidly against his thigh like a hot pulse. His excitement at her distress was apparent. She felt his thick length pressed like a steel rod against her behind.
“Oh, Sephie,” he murmured, raining kisses over her flushed face. “I knew the moment I set eyes on you I had to have you…and now I know why.”
“No!” she gasped, twisting in his arms, resuming the battle. He let her, his strength more than enough to keep her as she squirmed and strained against him. Panting, she moaned as he slipped a hand between her thighs, the incredible heat nothing compared to the slick wetness there. He cupped her whole mound and lifted her high up off the ground, pulling the chains around her ankles to their maximum length.
Persephone gasped, panicking, as her body slid upwards along the cold wall, the edges of the stone biting into her soft flesh. Aidon held her there, cupping her sex and using his weight to keep her dangling, like a helpless doll. The feeling was a relief and she melted into the sensation. There was no rubbing or massaging. He just held her there and waited, as if he could stay there forever.
“You want this.” Aidon’s breath tickled her ear. “I can feel your body responding to me.”
“Please…” She closed her eyes against it, wanting to deny what he said was true. “Please don’t do this.”
“Ah, but I do believe you want me to do this.” His voice rumbled through his chest, and she felt it through her whole body as he spoke. When he rocked her gently back and forth, shifting her weight with just his palm, she couldn’t help moaning softly. Slowly, he eased her to the floor. When he moved his bulk away from her, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Your mouth and your body are speaking two different tongues.”
“I don’t—” Her words were stopped by his hand, pressed firmly over her mouth.
“No more talking.” He bore down against her lower back, leaning her forward. “The only word I want to hear from you is ‘yes.’ Now bend over.”
He pulled her feet out as far as the chains would allow and pressed her cheek against the wall. Her arms dangled above her head and it was an awkward position, forcing her bottom out, exposing it to him.
“I have whips and crops and all sorts of delightful implements for us to explore.” He caressed her behind, moving his palm over the soft skin. He parted her thighs with his big hands, spreading her legs wide. “And we will, sweetness. Believe me, we will.” She gasped when his hand came down on her bottom. “I will be the instrument of your greatest pain and pleasure.” The sound of his palm biting her flesh made a resounding slap and she bit her lip, trying not to cry out. “I will be your sun…your moon…” He punctuated each word with a hard swat. “Your day…your night…” Persephone felt the impact vibrating through her. “Your heaven…your hell…”
He had found a rhythm. His palm connected solidly with her bottom, and his fingers grazed her sex with every pass. With each blow, something in her coiled, stretching a little tighter, and waited to spring. Persephone moaned and squirmed, struggling against her restraints, unable to break free from this exquisite torture. The skin of her bottom sang in pain, but the throb between her legs grew wildly as he spanked her.
“And you will be my queen…” His breath came as fast as hers, his hand working in short, hard bursts against her flesh, again and again. She knew what was coming, and she braced herself for it, unable to refuse her body’s release. His hand turned and slapped hard and fast at her sex as he leaned into her. Persephone moaned and shuddered with her climax, bucking up against the delicious bite of his hand. His panting breath in her ear was hot and made her shiver. “And you will bow only to me in service and utter surrender.”
Persephone closed her eyes. Her skin was on fire, but the undeniable heat at the apex of her thighs was beyond anything she had ever known. Behind her closed eyes, she floated above th
e world. Bound and beaten, her flesh burning and alive, she felt more free than she ever had in her life. She had longed for something more, had been aching and yearning for something greater than herself. And now she knew she had found it.
“You were meant to be mine.” His hand caressed her now, massaging. She sighed and arched against his touch. “Say yes, Persephone.”
She had already given herself to him. She felt it in the sinking of her body and flight of her soul. A cage had opened in her heart and something had been set free. His breath over her skin was like the touch of wings and she turned her head to look at him, her eyes soft. He looked at her as if she was already a queen, and she realized she was. “Yes.” It was the word they both knew she would say.
He caressed her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb. “Yes,” he repeated, smiling. He unshackled her, and she fell to her knees while he undid her ankle restraints. Standing, he placed a hand on top of her golden head. “Look at me.”
She lifted her chin, still feeling the weight of his hand, looking up the length of his arm and into his eyes.
“You are free, Persephone.” He removed his hand, letting it drop to his side. “You may go if you wish.”
Aidon stepped back and watched her. With her hand on the wall behind her, Persephone tried out her trembling legs. They were steady enough to allow her to rise. She glanced at the door and back at him. He’s letting me go? She thought of her mother, who must be worried sick, and she took two steps toward liberty.
Then she twisted to look at him, her heart beating hard, like a heavy weight in her chest, and remembered the other kind of freedom she had experienced—the kind of freedom he offered. Torn, she stood, hesitating. He made no move to stop her. She took another step toward the door, and another. Her hand touched the knob, turned it, and she found it unlocked. Glancing behind her, she saw him standing motionless, waiting.
She saw her life, stretched out before her. Endless hours of springtime, romps in the wildflowers with the other goddesses, her mother’s protection and care. Yet none of it compared to the feelings Aidon had stirred in her. He looked at her as if he wanted her, as if he could swallow her whole, consume her and make her his in one bite.
