Her Creator (Myths Retold)

by Normandie Alleman

  Once inside, he looked around and was surprised by the elaborate decor of the place. It seemed familiar, and after a few moments, he recognized where he was.

  This was Aphrodite’s temple.

  Shouldn't there be people in here worshiping her?

  It seemed odd the place was empty on her feast day.

  He had a feeling the goddess of love would expect more love from her fans, but he was the only one there.

  He made his way into the marble chamber where the stained-glass windows were lined with gems.

  Each window depicted a scene of love, mostly courtly love—the kind he felt for Galatea.

  A sense of hopelessness consumed him. That was the sort of love he’d never have.

  And if he didn’t have that, he would never have children.

  His parents had loved him, but they were long dead.

  He’d questioned the possibility of finding love in his life before he created Galatea, but back then it hadn’t bothered him so much. Because he’d never loved a woman before.

  But now, he had fallen in love with a statue. And for him, it was real. She was real.

  Sadly, that love would remain unrequited, and he was destined to be alone.

  With a heavy heart and no one else in there, he made his way to the front and knelt at the altar.

  The statue at the front of Aphrodite was average. It certainly didn’t do her justice the way he would have had he been the one awarded the commission, but it was nice enough.

  Nonetheless, he began to spill his guts and tell the goddess of his problems with his beautiful statue.

  "So you see, Aphrodite, I may love her, but I will never have that love in return. What good is a love like that? I almost wish I had never created her. What was I thinking?

  If I had known that falling in love would bring such sorrow, I don't think I would've done it."

  After he concluded his speech, he became sleepy and must've passed out because the next thing he knew he woke up, having fallen asleep on the kneeling cushions.

  His head throbbed, and his mouth felt dry.

  Stiffly, he rose and made his way outside the temple and staggered through the streets for home.

  When he got to his place, he stumbled up the steps. He turned the key in the lock and entered the apartment, instantly noticing the air felt different.

  Warmer, as if someone had been there.

  Alarmed, he rushed to the studio to check on his precious Galatea.

  As he entered the room, he could see immediately what had changed.

  His heart leapt as he took her in, for her cheeks were rosy, her eyes were light blue, no longer the white stone, and they sparkled in the light.

  Her full lips were now as shiny and red as a juicy pomegranate, not dull as they were before.

  Her skin bore the creamy, sensuous tone of real flesh.

  He was desperate to touch it.

  "Galatea!" he cried.

  She blinked. "Yes?"

  A million butterflies fluttered their wings inside his stomach.

  How had this happened? When he left, she had been merely a statue made of stone. A gorgeous one he was in love with, but a statue nonetheless.

  How, upon his return, could his beautiful creation be alive?

  "You’re real," he stammered. “How did this happen?”

  A bewitching smile stretched across her face. "I do not know. But here I am."

  He rushed toward her and took her hands in his.

  They were warm and soft as rose petals, and he picked them up to inspect them. They were perfect—down to her well-shaped fingernails and individual fingerprints.

  She was real.

  It was everything he could have dreamed of.

  His perfect woman, in the flesh, no longer made of cold, hard stone, but flesh and blood—a true companion in every sense of the word.

  But wait—it all seemed too good to be true.

  So he took her by the hand and helped her stand.

  "Do you mind?" he asked.

  "Not at all," she said agreeably.

  He twirled her around and cupped her chin in his hand. Then he pressed a hand to her heart.

  Yes, it was truly beating.

  Realizing his hand was on part of her breast, he blushed. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  She laughed and placed her hand over his. "It's fine."

  Suddenly, it struck him. She must be hungry. “Would you like something to eat? You must be starved.”

  “Hungry?” she appeared puzzled.

  “You look to be human now. There are things humans have to do. They have to drink and eat food to stay alive. You’ll probably notice a rumble in your stomach.”

  He pointed to her belly.

  “Not just yet. Perhaps that will come later."

  He had so many questions, and the more he asked the less she knew.

  It was as though she was just dropped onto the earth and didn’t know much before a few weeks ago.

  Around the time she was created…

  But when he asked her if she recalled some of the stories he told her, she surprised him by saying she did.

  His beautiful Galatea had been listening the whole time.

  All the time he thought he was speaking to an inanimate object, but it turned out she was in there all along, listening.

  In fact, she knew him better than probably anyone.

  He had told her things he had never shared with another soul.

  “Let us go into the apartment where it is more comfortable," he said.

  She smiled. "Lead the way."

  He took her into the sparsely furnished living area.

  He sat down on the sofa and patted the seat next to him inviting her to join him, which she did.

  Because he could use some himself, he offered her some wine.

  This whole thing came as quite a shock, and even though the adrenaline rush that came with this discovery had knocked his headache back a bit, he could still use some hair of the dog.

  He poured them each a glass, showed her how to toast clinked glasses, and they both drank.

  The way she looked at him with such admiration filled his heart, and he found himself asking, "Do you mind if I kiss you?"

  "What is a kiss?" she asked, and it occurred to him that there were many things about the world and being alive that Galatea knew nothing about.

  Things that would be up to him to show her.

  Ian leaned in and touched his lips to Galatea’s.

  They were soft. Supple when he pressed against them.

  What had happened to replace the marble? It had to be some kind of magic.

  Or he was losing his mind.

  Either way, he couldn’t help himself. His tongue darted between those beautiful lips, and he began to explore her mouth.

  Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around his neck in what felt like an automatic response.

  The kind that didn’t need to be learned.

  She was so receptive, it sent a jolt of electricity zipping through his body.

  Her skin felt so amazing next to his. His cock hardened, pressing insistently against his pants.

  Was it the right thing for him to have sex with a woman he recently created?

  A woman who had no one in the world but him.

  In a sense, she belonged to him. Solely to him.

  Except that she was a person in her own right and not his slave.

  But if she wanted to… it was also his job to introduce her to the world, wasn’t it?

  He was responsible for her being here.

  She began kissing his neck, and his brain almost stopped working. But before that happened, he made a decision.

  He certainly wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want him to do, and he wouldn’t pressure her to satisfy him.

  But the way she looked at him.

  He caressed her breasts, and the way she moaned made him believe that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  She wore only a light bit
of fabric covering her breast and falling into a short chemise.

  Her shapely legs were bare, and he could see her nipples pebbling under the thin fabric.

  “Galatea?” His voice was hoarse with desire.

  “Mmmhmm?” Her doe eyes glanced up at him.

  “Would you like to be my lover?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what that is. Do you think I would like it?”

  His eyes widened. “I do. But if you decide you don’t, at any time you just say no and I will stop.”

  “No?” she asked

  “That’s right. You can say no and I will stop.”

  “But you think I will like it?”

  He nodded.

  “Will it hurt?” The innocence on her face only stoked his desire even more.

  “I hope not.”

  “Alright then. Show me.”

  4

  She gave him her hand, and he kissed her palm before placing it against the bulge in his pants.

  “Oh! What is that?”

  “That is what you do to me.”

  She looked puzzled.

  “Normally, it’s not hard like that. You’re so lovely that you make me want to pleasure you.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “May I see it?”

  With a groan, he unbuttoned his pants then opened them allowing his erection to spring free.

  “Oh.”

  Ian closed his fingers around his shaft and loosely stroked his dick until a droplet of precum appeared on the head.

  “May I touch it?”

  Her words caused his cock to jerk in his hand.

  In response, he placed her hand on it.

  “You can lick it too. Put it in your mouth.”

  Instinctively, she knelt in front of him and hungrily slid him between her lips. Her tongue ran over the head and then his shaft.

  She swallowed the precious precum, and his balls tightened.

  Damn! She was good. How did she know what to do?

  Could he possibly have instilled carnal knowledge in her as he sculpted her, or was it another part of the magic that gave her to him?

  He placed his hands on both sides of her head, steadying himself as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the sublime sensation that came from her pretty little mouth.

  After a few minutes, she stopped what she was doing and asked, “What is your name? I know you are my creator, but you call me Galatea. What am I to call you?”

  Startled, he considered her question. For a crazy moment he considered telling her she could call him “Master”, but that was a bit much. Though he did like seeing her on her knees in front of him like that.

  “My name is Pygmalion, which is horrible, so my friends call me Ian—like the end of my name.”

  “I would like to be your friend,” she said earnestly. “May I call you Ian as well?”

  He motioned for her to stand. When she did, he took her in his arms and held her tight, relishing the warmth of her body against his.

  “My dear girl, you may call me whatever you want.”

  And he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  5

  It was a strange and new world she woke up in, but it was nice not to be alone anymore.

  For the first few hours, when she was all by herself, she felt lost.

  But now with her Creator, Ian, back things improved.

  It felt nice to have his hands on her.

  Mmm. Better than nice.

  It was everything, being wrapped in his arms, covered in his kisses.

  She loved him.

  Loved everything about him.

  How could she not? He was all she knew, her entire world.

  He’d made her from a slab.

  Without him, she would not exist.

  And what an existence it was, she thought gleefully as his hand caressed her breast, teasing her nipple to a hard little point then taking it into his mouth and suckling her.

  She cried out in ecstasy.

  He seemed to like when she did that. She could tell by the look in his eye, so she did it more.

  Her fingers played in his wild hair.

  When she’d been made of stone, she’d dreamed of being able to run her hands through his curly mop, and now she did it.

  Her hips tilted instinctively toward his body.

  She didn’t know how to love, but she wanted to do it right, so between kisses she breathed, “Teach me.”

  “Yes, Galatea. I will teach you.”

  She clasped him to her, drinking him in. Her mouth longed to be joined with his. She could kiss him like this for an eternity.

  But after a few minutes, he drew back and rasped, “Open your legs, my dear.”

  Sliding them apart wasn’t all he meant. He showed her by bending her knees then spread them wide.

  This left her feeling exposed, but she trusted him, so when he told her to close her eyes she did.

  His hands cupped her breasts, and she continued toying with his unruly locks of hair.

  Thumbs flicked over her hard nipples, and kisses landed on first her breasts, then her belly, then the top of the nest of hair just above her sex.

  Then his mouth covered that most intimate place between her legs.

  A wave of pleasure washed over her, and she let herself go.

  She wasn’t sure what he was doing down there, but she felt things she never could have imagined. Occasionally, she thought she could distinguish a finger from his tongue, but there were times she couldn’t fathom what body part could make her experience something like that.

  She definitely had a lot to learn.

  Grasping a handful of sheets, she gripped them until her hips bucked and her head thrashed from side to side. Joyous cries erupted from her throat.

  Her legs began to shake, and an all-consuming burst of pure pleasure ravaged her body. It began at her core and traveled to her extremities.

  “Ian,” she managed. “I love you.”

  The words came out because at that moment she felt them with every fiber of her bliss-filled body.

  “Yes,” he maneuvered himself so that he lay atop her. “And I love you.”

  Before she could think of anything else to say, she felt the nudge of his erection against her now soaked pussy.

  “Take me. Make me yours,” she purred into his ear as she pulled him to her, kissing his neck.

  He slipped his cock into her slick and welcoming channel.

  It took a few minutes for her body to get used to the intrusion.

  She shifted uncomfortably underneath him a few times as she stretched to accommodate him, but once he was sheathed inside her, she thrilled at the sensation of being filled by him.

  He had pleased her, now she wanted to please him.

  His hips rocked back and forth, moving inside her and, to her surprise, she felt another crash of pleasure spilling over every inch of her.

  Each thrust of his cock was a revelation, and each time he pulled back, she moved to meet him again. Having him deep in her was somehow the perfect culmination of him creating her.

  She was his, inside and out. Through and through.

  Finally, after one last push, he groaned and stilled inside her.

  When he pulled out, she made a whining noise.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. I just liked you in there,” she said, noticing a wet emission spilled from between her legs.

  He collapsed next to her, settled her in the crook of his arm, and hugged her close.

  He laughed. “I do too. But you’re mine now. There will be plenty of time to do that again.” He kissed her forehead.

  “Good,” she said. But as she lay there, she found herself wondering if there was anything else to being alive other than belonging to a man who brought her great happiness.

  If there was, she’d figure it out tomorrow, she thought just as sleep carried her away.

  6

  Over the next few days, Ian and Galatea sp
ent hours talking and getting to know one other.

  Extensive lovemaking sessions followed these conversations. Then they would fall asleep entwined until they woke up, and it began all over again.

  Ian thought they were both as happy as could be and falling more in love every day.

  One day, Ian went to the pantry to find they had no food left in the apartment.

  “Galatea, I’m going to order some food. Is there anything you’d like to try, or something you’d like me to get for you?”

  She laughed. “Get whatever you like, I guess. I don’t know what I like or don’t like yet.”

  So far she’d eaten everything he’d given her, but it had been a limited selection.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  He’d been selfish. Ever since Galatea came to life he wanted to keep her all to himself. He realized that might not be fair to her, so he asked, “Would you like to go out to the store? Explore a little bit.”

  Her eyes lit up. “That would be amazing!”

  She jumped up, then looked down at her nudity. “But what will I wear?”

  It was true, she stayed naked during most of their time together. The small chemise she’d worn originally was so flimsy it had gotten ripped, so she walked around naked or in one of his old paint shirts.

  “We’ll have to get you some clothes. How would you like to go out for lunch and then go shopping?”

  She gave an adorable little hop. “Really? Could we?”

  “Of course.” In the back of his mind, a niggling voice warned that he might need to check his accounts before they went. He’d shut out the rest of the world while he’d been creating his beloved Galatea, and that had become even more the case once she came to life.

  He had no time for mundane things like paying bills or answering communications with clients.

  How many weeks ago had it been since Patrick had barged in?

  He tried to think, but watching Galatea parading around the apartment looking for something to wear distracted him. Those breasts, that ass, those curves—he’d really outdone himself.

  The idea of taking her out and showing her off appealed to him, but first he took his hardening cock in his hand and called her name.

  A few hours later they left the apartment. He’d given her an old pair of his jeans and a button-down shirt she tied at the waist. The outfit would have looked ridiculous on a normal person, but her beauty shone through. He doubted that anyone who saw her even noticed what she was wearing, so captivating were her features.