The Goddess, the Girl, and the Velvet Noose

 

Synopsis

James thought love meant safety, but clearly, loving her meant otherwise. She wasn't cruel, she was kind. Too kind even, the kind you would kneel for. Sylvie is what happens when a goddess doesn’t ask but offers everything anyway. While he would need to fight or surrender, she would simply need to wait. The only certainty that mattered here is that some knots weren’t meant to come loose.

By FlyingMonkey

~o~O~o~

This story takes its inspiration from two of my favourite authors, Vikie Tern and Armond. Thanks for making me truly want to write.

~o~O~o~
 
Midnight Fell from Her Hair

---

I leaned against the fridge, still tasting toothpaste, my heartbeat suddenly running wild beneath my tongue.

"Twirl for me," I commanded softly, morning arousal already thickening my voice.

Did she obey? Fuck me sideways, did she ever.

She spun slowly... lazy and decadent. Her hair cascaded like black oceans at midnight, made explicitly for drowning morality. This was no accident, but no design of mine either. I'd deliberately let reality's more subtle magic shape her, expecting balance and maybe a delicate surprise. This was neither. This was extreme, intoxicating perfection. Reality itself, it seemed, had decided to rip apart its own damned rulebook.

And gods below, I wasn't even shocked, just deeply intrigued. I fully intended to get to the bottom of this...

Right after getting to the bottom of her.

Her breasts were lush, arrogant miracles shaped from sunrise itself. Crowned by nipples sculpted from blushing silk, and the explicit wet dreams of every being who'd ever craved a woman. Nipples made to tease, pinch, bite, feed, and suck relentlessly. Nipples so shameless they should've carried warning labels rather than polite invitations. They were neon fuck-me signs crafted by a very horny universe.

"Bloody hell," I whispered. Only she, my impossible mortal, could drag me, a goddess, down to the filthy depths of men and... Make me enjoy every profane second.

Eyes sliding lower, I drank in that waist. So sinfully slim it could spark a fistfight wherever it went. Yet perfect for greedy hands to grip, worship, or defile. Her hips flared beneath my gaze, drawn in sinful curves that promised trouble with every shift. The sort that made the idea of not violating her feel like sacrilege.

Then that arse. Gods, that arse. Not merely defying gravity, but giving it two grand fingers and a filthy wink. Daring me, personally, to do something about it. An arse that demanded a thorough spanking, just for the sheer insolence of such perfection even existing. It begged for handprints, for lack of restraint, and for the sort of attention that leaves echoes.

There it was, revealed as she finished her turn. Pristine, untouched, lips tight as a miser's purse. A snatch that could bankrupt kings and make saints weep. A dare for anyone foolish enough to risk it all. Depths so tempting even the damned would pray for permission to plunge and be lost.

My darling husband was art brought to life. Flesh crafted to inspire obscene lust in teenagers, nuns, dirty old men, scandalised old women, and now, clearly, me.

The brief sting of jealousy sharpened my resolve. No cock but mine would stretch and ruin her first. I was going to stake my claim, and fuck the innocence right out of that divine, perfect, twat.

My cheeks flushed hot at that very thought, I chastised myself sharply. 'You are not a man. You are not a pig,' I repeated to myself. But my resolve lasted only moments watching her.

Fuck decorum. Millions of years poised in dignity, and for the first damned time, I genuinely craved wallowing in the mud.

"Feels bloody fantastic to be a pig," I chuckled.

I slid a mug across the counter as I walked up to her. "This new architecture," I murmured, "could cause problems."

She flushed. "With your brother?"

"The God of Lust himself? Yes." My fingers trailed along that impossible waist. "He would certainly offer his left nut for the license to try to... anything you. But he'd never survive the encounter. You'd conquer his domain, rip the title from his hands, and remake his 'virtue' in your own image.”

She blushed fiercely, cheeks a pretty candy-pink, eyes mischievous as she stepped closer. curling into me deliberately. "Let's just pray that the man whore never sees me like this."

I paused, horror flickering across my face. My brother, how lust became his domain, I'll never know. All stamina, no sense; ever-hard and never wise, with the impulse control of a thunderstorm in rut. "Yeah, genuinely worrying," I admitted. "His so-called pantheon-splitter up against your myth-making twat, fresh enough to start a new era? Gods and monsters alike would run out of stories, safety nets, and places to sit by morning.

She scoffed, waving dismissively. "That smug little shit would certainly try, but there's something different about me now. I feel... immune, almost enchanted. Nothing and no one can take what I don't willingly give."

"Yes, yes... Our games." Itried to play it off, but inside, I was reeling at what I knew was true. She'd just declared herself off-limits, even to me, unless she chose otherwise. Her own consent was absolute law, even to the gods. This was new, and deliciously dangerous. But I decided it was a mystery to be solved another time. So I let my eyes drift away, let the puzzle linger, and wrapped myself around her, chasing the answers on her tongue instead.

She laughed, nervous energy scattering through her smile as my breath skimmed her lips. I revelled in her gasp when my fingers found her waist in playful 'research'. She was stardust on my tongue, and the wild rush of meteors. She was the night's softest ache and every dream's longing made flesh.

She nudged the flour I'd spilt last night with her toe, glancing through lowered lashes. "Wasn't this form supposed to be punishment for my drunk poker stunt?"

My gaze dropped to her foot, knowing that I'd gladly broker peace treaties for one filthy kiss on that perfect arch. "Clearly, the punishment backfired. I'm the one suffering."

She let her toe nudge the flour again, eyes sparkling but still a little apprehensive. "So, what are our weekend plans, Cali?"

I let the question smoulder for a good moment before answering. "Oh, all sorts of trouble. Shopping, cocktails, dancing until we ache, and if you behave, I'll let you pick which lucky boy gets to steal a dance... or maybe something more. But don't count on it, love. I'm feeling possessive."

At that very moment, reality’s magic surged, sharp as broken glass and twice as hot, utterly beyond my grasp for the first time ever. 

Summoning a cock? Please. I’ve conjured one on a slow Tuesday just to out-aim a seraph with a superiority complex. Or to win a pissing match with some blue-blooded monarch who thought his crown made up for the disappointment below. I once sprouted three at once just to prove to a coven of mathematicians that, yes, divine geometry can be deeply inappropriate. 

I stared down. Shocked.

This? This wasn’t my hand on the switch. This was her? Yes, and literally yanking my knickers down without even realising it. While infinity watched pointing, and howling with laughter while I tried to catch my breath.

Heat pooled low. My lips sealed with a sticky sigh, folding in on themselves until nothing but promise remained. Then, skin stretched, tugged down and then dropped, promise swelling into threat. Pressure built, then snapped, every inch spilled down like molten gold cooling into a blade. Blooming into a cock so thick and clean it could’ve only been sculpted by a goddess with a grudge.

Two hairless balls dropped next, heavy as fate, tight and not an ounce of extra flesh. Big enough to tempt sin, perfectly indecent. Functional, yes, but made for worship in reality. The perfect size to swallow whole and willingly serve. Over and over, long after they’d served their purpose. The kind of balls you’d thank all night, and mean it. I cupped them in my palm, feeling their perfect weight, already picturing Sylvie’s lips learning the shape of gratitude.

Not a blemish. This was a cock meant for glory and disaster. Didn’t matter whose mouth it claimed first. Hungry, yes, but not rabid. Built with intent. The kind that draws you down without asking, has you aching to prove yourself worthy just to taste it.

James’s shirt. His big, soft, borrowed comfort. Shrivelled at the hem, melting up my waist until it entirely exposed the new monster dangling between my thighs. The rest clung sheer, just an excuse now, as if it wanted to make certain every line of me was on display for her inspection, almost made me laugh. 

A fat bead of precum gathered at the tip, trembling, then dropped… smack. A dare, right onto the tile. My shaft jerked, proud and vain as a crowned prince. Of course it did.

And for one flicker, I caught my idiot brother’s shadow in its heft. He’s paraded his cock across the cosmos like the shameless slut he is—never for pay, always for spectacle. That thing is wild, feral, always prowling for a new scene to wreck. Reckless and ready to pick a fight, desperate to be watched, always looking for a mess to make. He has crashed more dreams, bathhouses, and feasts than I could count.

But this? This was different. Commanding, not wild. Held in check, not loose. Hypnotic in the way it promised defeat without ever declaring it. Where his cock broadcasted danger, mine radiated certainty. The sort that says, Come closer if you dare. Masculine, but without bluster. All the power but no tantrums.

James had never seen that hungry beast, though I’d bet he’d imagined it. Everyone did, sooner or later. But this was what she manifested. Her first in real life, and I savoured the anticipation. Let her wonder. This was how divinity did competition. No rules, only winners and worshippers.

Was she really doing this? I tried to see, to reach for the answer, but there was nothing. No thread, no vision, no past and no future. Another first. Another impossibility. Another drop of precum, rolling off the head and splattering at my feet.

I looked up. She stared, lips parted, cheeks flushing deep, awe in her eyes. The look of a girl on the cusp, torn between falling to her knees or bolting, but certain this moment would haunt her. Forever.

Well, when in Rome.

I wrapped my hand around the shaft, feeling the pulse and heat of it. Marvelling at the heft, the way it seemed to fit so naturally in my palm. I stroked, watching another bead form. I caught the drop on my fingertip and brought it to my lips, tasting. Salt and honey. The flavour of inevitability itself. “Tastes like… victory,” I whispered. Then licked it clean. “And a little like defeat.”

She blushed deeper, cheeks in full bloom now. Standing in the kitchen, naked and with nothing but nerves. Her eyes glazed for a moment, like the universe itself was leaning close. Whispering the secret of what she had become. I saw her thoughts shift from the inside out, the knowledge unfurling through her, as she struggled to process everything.

“Apparently I’m part elf, angel and valkyrie…” she managed, voice trembling, almost shy.

I cut her off with a slow, stepping into her space, grinning now. “That’s only half the truth, love. You are also part apsara, part wood nymph, and oh, don’t think I didn’t notice. The gleam of a succubus in your grin. And you know what that means, don’t you?”

She blinked, confusion and hunger wrestling across her face. I leaned in, nuzzling her throat, my cock inches from the inside of her thigh.

“Gorgeous, dangerous, and sometimes helpless little things,” I teased. Circling her waist, my eyes devouring every fresh line. “Made to hunger endlessly for what you need from others. Not just in your head, darling. It’s stitched into your bones. You were built to tempt. To taste. To serve, to take, to lose yourself in need so fierce it becomes the law of nature.”

Her mouth parted, a gasp echoing terror but also a creeping want. My words coiled around her now.

“You really don't have a choice, not when something like this is dangling in front of you, demanding you to kneel. Try to fight it, and the ache is going to eat you alive.”

She tried to whimper a weak denial, but she couldn't hide the truth blooming across her skin.

My breath hitched, her body’s confession echoing my own. I let my smirk spread, letting the moment simmer. “Right,” I said, collecting myself. “You’ll need a proper name."

She frowned then, shaking her head. “Gods, you know I suck at names.”

“That’s fine,” I drawled, letting my cock nudge her thigh, shameless and heavy. “Given recent developments, darling, maybe sucking is just what you’ll  be perfect at.”

She managed a thin grin, but it was merely bravado. Her eyes clearly flashed panic. “Fair point. Still your call.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hand lingering a beat longer than necessary. “Not for long. Soon enough, you’ll pick for yourself. You. Not me.”

Her lips parted, tongue flickering as if tasting new possibility. “Sylvie,” she said with some uncertainty, a seduction without even trying, the ‘y’, a lover's kiss.“How’s that?”

I leaned in, letting my breath stroke her lips. “Sylvie. Perfect. Sweet, just like you’ll taste. Every part of you, delicate, decadent and debauched.” 

A gasp escaped her as she looked down, almost undone, eyes wide and shining with the first flicker of surrender. Her voice quivered. “If you say so… my goddess.”

I closed the space between us, voice dropping to a hush. “Goddess or not, there’s only one thing that matters now. No more husband. No more, James. You’re my wood nymph, my cunning little succubus, my helpless apsara. You belong to me, and you’re going to prove it.”

~o~O~o~
 
The Only Gravity I Answer To

---

 

She shivered, the air around me smelling like surrender now. Her needy breath and the sticky ache gathering between her legs told me everything. I grinned, letting gravity have its way, and swept her up in one motion. Lifting my Sylvie onto the counter, her legs falling open as I settled her exactly where I wanted her.

I grinned, slow and predatory. Sylvie, my poor sweet thing, was about to learn just how inevitable her fall was going to be.

The morning light now gilded every line of her. Hips flared, breasts rising and falling with quickening breath. Nipples rosy, swollen and yearning. Thighs trembling, and her folds already glistening with a deep, eager hunger. She was every inch the ripe, trembling vision of an apsara. Decadent, hungry, helpless, wanting.

I started slow, my fingertips drawing lazy, circling patterns up her thighs. Lingering, not quite touching where she needed me most. She shivered, biting her lip, her head tipping back as if the pleasure and embarrassment were too much to bear. Eyes squeezed shut, she moaned. Half surrender, half fear, just how I wanted it.

Her lashes fluttered, eyes open wide, drinking in every movement. And then, slow, certain, and inevitable, I let my fingers glide down, parting her virgin lips. She gasped, the shock and ache of that first touch sparking through her, her whole body caught between terror and desperate want. I paused, letting her see: her folds, glistening and open, claimed by me and only me. There was no going back now.

I spread her wider with a deliberate thumb, letting her watch herself exposed and wanting-unable, unwilling to stop a single thing I chose to do. Her blush spread down her chest, trembling breath growing ragged.

Only then did I find her clit, barely brushing it-teasing the swollen bud with the lightest, laziest flick of my finger. Her body jolted, a helpless moan tearing loose. Again and again, I touched her, letting her desire gather wet and hungry on my fingers, making sure she saw every second. Her hips began to roll, every part of her screaming to be claimed, to simply become.

I caught her chin in my hand, gently tilting her head forward, forcing her eyes to meet mine. "Open your eyes, love. Watch everything. Watch yourself come undone for me. Watch as James fades and you're born, right here, in the reflection in my eyes." My words were velvet-wrapped iron, giving her no choice but to obey.

I leaned in and closed my mouth over her nipple, sucking hard, my teeth scraping at the tender flesh. She arched with a sharp, desperate "Ahhh-" hands scrabbling at my shoulders. "Cali... sto-nggggg-" Sylvie whimpered, another gasp spilling out as I released her with a wet pop. Then, I traced kisses up her neck, my breath making her shiver and arch all over again.

"From now on, Sylvie, you will be breakfast, lunch, dinner, and every sweet snack in between, as I desire, when I desire. That is what it means to be mine." My voice was a purr and a promise, each word heavy with intent.

My hand slid a little deeper now, two fingers dipping through her slick folds, circling, stroking, keeping her always just at the edge. I watched her face, watched her lose herself, her lips parted, chest flushed, eyes wide with shame and yearning. Her thighs trembled, her body helplessly open, ready, need pouring from all of her.

When she was shaking, moaning, right at that fevered peak, I lifted my fingers, glossy and dripping, to her lips and murmured, "Suck."

Blushing fiercely, my Sylvie took the offered finger into her mouth. Tongue swirling tentatively at first, then greedier as she tasted herself under my watchful eyes.

When she finished, I kept my hold on her gaze, voice absolute. "Mine?"

She moaned, body arching into my touch, surrender shining in her eyes. "Yes-" The word was half gasp, half promise, and it was all I needed to hear.

Sylvie gasped, moaning against my hand as I slipped one finger in slowly. Deeper. Parting her folds now, the other still toying with her clit just the way her body craved it. I continued watching her thighs tremble, her chest rising and falling to the rhythm I chose. Taking my time, stroking her, coaxing out the song that my wanton wench would sing.

I caught her chin, tilting her gaze downward with gentle insistence. "Look, love. Watch what's about to claim you."

As commanded, her eyes dropped to my cock-thick, beautiful, flushed and a little wild, a perfect pearl of precum glinting at the tip.

"So... big..." Sylvie breathed, voice trembling on the edge of a moan.

I grinned, voice silk and steel. "Yes, love. Much bigger than anything you've ever seen. James wouldn't hold a candle to this, would he?"

Sylvie's breath caught, eyes flicking down and away. She bit her lip, hesitating. I wouldn't let her escape. My thumb flicked her clit, my finger plunging deeper and then retreating. Drawing out that wonderfully helpless gasp.

"Say it," I commanded, unyielding.

She whimpered, cheeks flaming. "It's... bigger than mine."

I tutted softly, tightening my hold. "Not yours, my moonbeam. James's."

She swallowed, still wavering. I gave her another teasing stroke, voice velvet and iron. "Now say it properly. Much bigger than James's, isn't it?"

Her lips parted, shaky, sweet and uncertain. "Yes... much bigger… than James."

I smiled, claiming every broken word.

She nodded, shivering.

"What if, after...I .. he-" She struggled, shame colouring her face.

"He can't," I cut in, reading her mind, letting my thumb tease in time with her pulse. "Indeed, he won't ever be able to truly satisfy me, not the way I'm about to ravage you."

A flush crept up her throat, her body pushing into my hand even as her eyes filled with anxious longing. "What will happen to my... James's psyche... his pride?"

My fingers push deeper, wringing a gasp from her that was liquid gold to my ears. With my free hand, I pointed down, cock swollen and proud between us. "This?" My voice was velveted command. "I didn't choose to grow it, love. You did. Or at least, you craved it. Reality heard what James never dared admit, and granted you what you truly hungered for."

Sylvie's eyes filled with confusion, her voice tumbling out between moans. "But I'm not... I'm not gay, Cali-I never-"

I smiled, never slowing the rhythm of my hand.

“I know, darling.”

Her breath caught, and her hips jerked. “This has nothing to do with wanting a man. It never did.”

I brushed my knuckles along the seam of her lips, “It was always about knowing, truly knowing, whether James was ever enough.”

Another stroke, harder, coaxing a whimper. “Whether you could satisfy me. See how the world answered?” I guided her eyes downward. “It turned the question inside out and gifted me this.”

She gasped when she saw it. I let her hold the truth. “Not a reversal. A lesson.” I kissed the corner of her open mouth, “Now you will know what I truly crave.” A soft hush. “What you always wondered yet never dared to ask.”

Sylvie could only whimper in response now. Her moans tangled with disbelief, body surrendering even as her mind reeled.

I let my lips linger on her ear. “Now you’ll finally feel what I’ve hungered for ever since you made an honest woman out of me, darling.”

A slow grind now. “Every inch, every pulse, every depraved, glorious ache I once denied myself. Now… will be yours to endure.”

Sylvie's breath caught, her voice a broken, pleading whimper. "Cali-please... too much-" Her cheeks burned, eyes swimming with shame and disbelief. But her hips rolled helplessly into my hand, slick and desperate, body betraying every last secret.

I held her gaze, fingers never pausing. "Now you understand, love. Sylvie will not be ruined, but poor James certainly will."

I placed my hand over her mouth, silencing any protest that may have been forming. "Shhh, love... now you just listen."

My fingers slowed, drawing out every tremble, every delicious twitch. I leaned in, breath warm at her ear.

"Never worry, darling. You'll always be pristine in my eyes. Or maybe you won't, but I bet you'll love every filthy second."

I traced a lazy circle “Picture this love. You're split open on an incubus's cock, his wings caging you tight. Would you beg to be used again?"

She tried to respond, but it was to no avail. Her tongue simply flicked across my palm as she moaned into my waiting hand.

"Now see yourself opening your legs for a werewolf. Letting him ravage you until your body forgets its own shape.”

She tried to bite this time, desperate and defiant, but my palm was pressed tight enough to give her teeth no leeway. All she could do was suckle my skin.

"Suppose an archfey pins you down while three of his courtiers take turns to ravage you until you're nothing but want?"

I kissed her cheek, slow and reverent, for the only one who's ever mattered. James might have stolen my heart, but Sylvie... I knew she would own me soon enough, and I looked forward to it. But she would always be mine to unravel and put back together. Tonight, I intended to make her beg for both.

"Let your mind wander to this delicious vision."

"You're dragged over a marble altar by a fallen demigod. Impaled over and over. Would you demean yourself further, offer up even more of your wreckage just to feel him again?"

And still she clung to my hand, lips and tongue working on my palm. As if begging for mercy or for more debasement. I couldn't have said which, and I had no intention of stopping to ask.

"Picture a satyr shoving you down. Would you let yourself be his favourite instrument in disgrace, just for the chance to lose yourself deeper?"

My little nymph was moaning wildly now, eyes a storm of terror and need.

“And I'll be there, darling. Reminding you that you chose every moment-every ruin, every ache, every desperate, helpless 'please.'”

She was quaking in my arms now, breath jagged in panic. I bent low, mouth close to her ear. "Okay, my love. I'll take my hand off your mouth, but you will not speak a word until I let you. Do you understand?" She nodded, defeated, a single tear glimmering on her cheek.

"And until I tell you to speak, you'll suck on my finger. Simply suck. The only answer I want is you sucking harder. Doesn't matter if it's yes or no. Understood?" Another nod, and another tear.

I released my hand and whispered, "Do as I tell you, my sweet kitten, not as you want." I pushed my finger between her lips. Her eyes were teary now, but she took me in as she promised, sucking down like she was made for it.
 

~o~O~o~
 
Made for More Than One Man’s Memory

---

 
“You could be strung up by your wrists in the basilisk’s den. Crowned in pearls of disgrace, begging for more. I’d still see my exquisite relic of excess and kiss your eyelids.

“I would still call you mine. Over and over.”

I paused, feeling her shudder again as intended. "Wouldn't that be splendid? Suck harder, love. Let me know what you think." She sucked as instructed, as I intended.

“Maybe I'll dress you in lace just to peel it off, soaked and stained.”

I pressed, felt her flutter and gasp, “and still, I'll look at you and only see divinity. No matter how well-used you are or how many gods have marked you. Covered in cum or crowned in moonlight, you will always be mine."

I growled my next words with finality. "You are mine, and mine alone... and of course, whoever I fancy sharing you with. For a night, a decade, or an aeon. Now suck harder." Again, Sylvie served as intended, sucking like she was starved.

"One day, you'll crave it. You'll ask me to give you away, gift-wrapped in trembles-to the high courts and hell-wrought halls. You'll want to be passed around like prophecy."

I nipped her throat, claiming even her breath now.

Then I withdrew my finger, murmuring, "Don't speak yet," and continued.

"But not tonight."

My hand tightened in her hair.

"Tonight, you're mine. Mine to fuck senseless, mine to brand from the inside out, until even fate admits she made you for me."

I loosened my grip and stroked her cheek, softening just a breath. "You can speak now, love."

Sylvie’s face crumpled, tears spilling in rivers. Salt streaked her cheeks, soaking my skin.

She shook, a storm in my arms, wracked by sobs so deep they sounded ancient. 

Her chest heaved, breaths jagged, her heart hammering against her ribs as if begging to be let out. She clung to me, hands twisted in my shirt, knuckles white, grasping as if I were the only thing left keeping her tethered to the world. Each sob seemed to break her a little further, her whole body at the cusp of shattering, like glass in a tempest.

Her voice fractured as her wails shattered me with her. "Why? Why this... punishment? Why this cruelty?" The words scraped up her throat, agonisingly thick. "What crime did I ever commit? Tell me... tell me what I did, except love you with everything I have."

Her voice unravelled into a keening, not quite human. her breath searing my neck as if she could brand her grief into me. I was living a confession and a curse, and I was the reason. I was the one causing her to splinter into wild, unbearable grief.

Images tumbled through me. That first meeting. Our awkward coffee date, the way he stirred his sugar. The sideways glance that lodged in my ribs and never left. The night we were drenched in rain, we were both soaked and laughing. Our first kiss. His hands were trembling on my skin. The first time we made love. Gentle, hungry, he was trying to trap the moment inside himself.

The night he proposed was the same night I confessed. I told him I was no mortal, no ordinary woman. The shock in his eyes, then the awe, and finally, impossibly, acceptance. 

He didn’t bother worshipping me, saw no point in bowing any lower. Instead, he slipped the ring onto my finger, grinned and said, “Brilliant. Now, when I tell the lads I’m shagging a goddess, they can’t write it off as pub bluster.”

Why couldn’t I be content? Billions of years, and I thought I had chosen him. Only now I see it was the other way round. I was the lucky one because he chose me.

And here I was. Breaking him... breaking her. Risking the only being I'd ever craved, just to chase this... hunger.

Watching her shatter was tearing me apart. My own tears blurred everything but her, even as I was unmaking her. My chest was raw with a stabbing ache while I tried to hold her together, clutching her close and whispering, “My love… my heart… my love…” over and over.

I wanted to tell her it would be alright, to promise her comfort, to take back every harsh memory I had burned into her. But all I could do was cradle her tighter, kiss her hair, and let the hurt echo through both of us. Knowing we were standing on the knife-edge between death and liberation. Now was the time to offer her the choice and respect her decision.

Finally, the words spilt out. “Baby, if this is too much, say so. I’ll wipe every hunger, every vision and every ache I caused. I’ll even lift the memories, leave only the gentlest dreams. If you wish it”

I heaved, then forced the words out. “I’ll walk away if that’s what you want. I’d rather be a ghost in your past than a scar in your present.”

Her sobs shook us both. I tasted salt, hers and mine.

“I cannot lay a finger on you unless you allow it. Not now, not ever. The very weave of existence has now chained my reach to your consent. That is the new truth that even I am bound by. Truer than a star’s orbit: your will, or nothing, and I will serve it gladly, because serving it means loving you.”

I drew back, thumb trembling on her jaw, tears streaming as I forced myself to find the words that terrified even me. 

"So you choose, Sylvie. Not for me, not for fate, not for the story, just for you. If you want to walk away, I'll let you. I'll mourn you for all eternity, but I won't cross that line. I can't. I love you far too much to ever make you less than sovereign. You're the only gravity I answer to now."

I let the silence stretch, open and bleeding, waiting for her answer. Hating the knowledge that whatever she chose would break me, one way or another.

Her shoulders convulsed; a sob snagged in her throat. Her lips barely moved, yet the words found their way. ‘Do what you must.’

That was a knife to the heart. I stopped, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. "No, my dear heart. Consent is everything. You don't just let things happen to you, not with me. You're not at the edge, love. You think you have fallen, but you have not. Even if you ever did, my hand would find yours and haul you up. Always.”

I pressed my forehead to hers and brushed away her tears. ‘Please, love, choose. Do we walk away, or will you trust me?’

Sylvie took a long, shuddering breath, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. She met my gaze. She was wounded, but she was brave, and her defiance glinted through the salt.

‘I’ll never stop trusting you,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve given you my all, and tonight you saw the price it demands.’

She swallowed, her broken voice steady now. ‘You watched, really watched. This is how easily you could bleed me dry. Those visions didn’t break me for what they were; they broke me because I trust you to make them real. I trust you, damn it, with every fragment of me. So God help me… well, that’s off the fucking table, isn’t it?’A shaky smile caught her lips, small but bright as sunrise. Just what I hoped for in my dearest champion. "So go on, Cali. Let us continue this journey." In that smile, I glimpsed again the magic that first hooked me when I peered into his past then.

James’s stubborn light shining through every ruin.

A spirit that refused to snap, even in the crash that killed his parents when he was nine. He crawled from that mangled car, both legs and one arm broken, just to call for help.

Years later, the orphanage. 

He poured every drop of pain into building a case against the man who raped and murdered his sister in that same dorm.

James was the only survivor now, a child marinated in grief and violence, yet he fought for justice, not revenge.

He met each hardship with grace.

Sleepless nights spent chasing a doctor’s collar despite crushing poverty.

The heartbreak of every child he could not save.

He carried the world’s pain so others did not have to.

Hope, softness, kindness—choices he made again and again while life tried to grind them out of him.

A true champion, his aura waving those virtues like a victory banner.

Even now, on the brink of burning up, he... she offered me that same impossible grace.

We simply lay there for a good while before I finally drew a breath so deep it hurt. "Alright, my love," I whispered, truly in awe of my love's resilience. My hand slid back between her folds, fingers finding her still wet and aching thanks to the wood nymph within. She gasped exactly as I had wanted, and I gave myself to the moment, utterly and without regret.

"Look at me, Sylvie. Look at my cock. Look hard at it. Look at your doing." 

She started to protest; I pressed a finger to her lips.

“We both knew then, and we both know now that I speak the truth. Now, tell me what you think.”

She hesitated, words trembling on her tongue, but the truth shimmered in her eyes.

Her breath stuttered, a shudder racing through her as her hips moved helplessly beneath my hand. "It won't fit-" she managed, her body betraying her with every push.

I leaned in, teeth grazing her ear, whispering. “Oh, but it will, my love. You’ll open for me, wide as a midnight bloom, helpless to anything but the ache. You’ll feel what James never could. What he could never really offer, not once. But you, sweetheart, you will be drenched in it. That’s a promise I will write in your bones.”

A pause, a moment’s hush.

“And James? Don’t fret about him. He’s not the first husband undone by love and he will not be the last. The truth is, I was never in love with a man, only the incredible soul underneath. And James… he was barely a man at all, in my book. Just a ghost living on borrowed time. His end was always inevitable, and I swear to you, my darling girl, he will thank us both for it."

Sylvie’s lips parted, a shaky “But—” on her breath.

I stilled her with a look, my voice silk-wrapped steel.

"Love, listen. I told you to trust me, and I warned you. There would be more pain. You need to be strong but also open. So please, just hear me out. Your turn will come, I’ll see to it. For now, simply drown in everything I give you. Hate my words, curse me if you must, but don’t you dare fight the pleasure I pour into you. Take all of it. It is entirely yours.”

She moaned, soft and shuddering, melting into my hold.

“That’s it. Let it happen. Turn to honey in my hands, so I can drink from you, my little pool of heat.

With another breathless “Yes.” The last of her resistance slipped away.

I slid a second finger inside, felt her shudder as I stretched her wider, heat clinging greedily to every inch. caught her gaze, holding it firm, letting her see the hunger and the memories smoulder in my eyes.

"Here is more of the truth, my sweet girl."

I let my words curl around her, trapping her between.

"I married James for his tenderness, his eagerness, his patience. The way he worshipped me for hours with tongue and fingers. Oh, how I loved it when he begged me for the privilege of making me come. That was what made him precious."

My fingers thrust deeper, all-claiming now.

"His cock? Never the reason. By mortal standards, it was passable. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"But you, love… You have no idea what it means to truly be fucked. I’ve had lovers who ruined me for aeons."

The filth kept pouring, like the blessings of the devil herself.

"There were times I stayed mortal just to wake up aching and dripping. Still gaping from being fucked senseless by gods and monsters. Treants have split me open on temple floors, and dragonlings have knotted me until I forgot my own prayers. Centaurs have left my thighs shaking for days, and demons invented new sins just trying to break me.”

A pause, my breath catching, but my hand never relenting.

"I have begged for more, again and again, until I forgot how to be divine. Until I only remembered how it felt to be devoured."

Sylvie whimpered, hips rolling helplessly. Her voice broke through, ragged.

"I... I thought... I was doing everything you wanted. I always tried to–"

I stopped her with a sharp shake of my head and a smile, velvet and cruel.

"Not you, love. He. He always tried. Oh, he did, my sweet girl. James tried so hard."

My thumb circled her clit, drawing out another shudder.

"James could have been quite the man for any mortal woman. Even some immortals... maybe. But not for me. Never for me."

Sylvie's eyes widened, a flush blooming high on her cheeks. Her humiliation mixed with her foggy arousal.

"I... you always seemed... happy, I–"

I leaned in, lips brushing her ear, voice dangerously low.

"I am happy, darling. Truly happy. The way James cares for me is heaven itself. His kindness, his endless love, the way he gives himself so freely. Even in bed, James satisfies me in every way except one. The itch that only my kind of ‘real’ men ever could ever scratch. So, I lied to James. Lied to myself. I let us both believe it was enough… until now."

~o~O~o~
 
I Would Still Call You Mine

---

 
Sylvie’s moan splintered—half protest, half plea. “So all those times. Was it all—?”

I dipped my head. “No, love. Not all of it. Just his cock.”

I paused, letting the memory curdle in my voice.

“It was a chore for me. Something I endured for love, never for pleasure. Half the time, I barely felt it at all. I had to squeeze, clench, work my own cunt just to feel anything.”

“He could last a good half hour. For any other woman, maybe bliss. For me? Never deep enough. Never hard enough. Never really… relevant.”

Another pause. Cool, cruel honesty.

“I faked it, just so he could finish. I barely got off. I smiled, praised him, and stroked his ego. That’s the only secret I ever kept, love.”

A final hush, quiet as a knife pressed to skin before the cruel cut.

“James was never really a man where it counted for me. Not in the dark and certainly not between my legs…”

The words hit her like a hammer, and Sylvie's eyes shone. Her tears once again brimming and spilling as her body shuddered beneath mine. Her whole world seemed to crack.

She sobbed, breath stuttering. "I... I didn't know. I never-"

I smiled, brushing away the next tear with my thumb.

"You couldn't have known, love. I lied so well that I nearly fooled myself, too. But this... this is real. This is what you were meant for, what I was always waiting for."

I kissed her tears freely now. Licking the salt from her cheeks.

"Sweetheart, the truth stings, I know. But it's a blessing you're a girl now. Poor James would have shattered, all that fragile male ego would be in smithereens. But we, my darling, we don't mourn losing a cock, do we? Not really. Unless it's the kind we want inside us."

I let the words curl between us, velvet and knife. "You aren't James, are you? James was never much of a man... but you, Sylvie, you could never be anything but all woman."

I kissed her gently, both a promise and a dare. "And trust me, now, that you are what you were always meant to be, there's so much more for us to look forward to."

“Just imagine it.”

I traced idle shapes along her hip,

 “Us, together. Letting all of divinity think I’m nothing but a cheating little slut. The gods never cared for monogamy, but they thrive on gossip.”

My nails carved pink trails in her skin as I went on. 

“Every pantheon, gods and goddesses, men, women, demons, angels, beasts. All of them, fucking us in every temple, every barn, every shadowed corner of paradise and hell.”

She shivered around my words.

“Let them think what they will of James. Let them think of him as just my cuckold, left on the sidelines. While you, my love, are right there with me. Sharing every bliss, every ache and every humiliation. We’d both lay bare all of James’s inadequacies as strangers fuck us senseless, darling.”

I licked the curve of her ear.

“Later, I might take your form. Borrow your memories even. Maybe I’ll hoard every last glob of spend dripping from our used, gaping cunts, just so I can shove James’s face deep between my thighs. Force his mouth wide, wrap my legs tight, no escape for dear champion.”

My hand slid up to cup her jaw, holding her gaze.

“He’d choke on it. Globs and strands of jizz coating his lips, flooding his mouth. Salty, musky, heavy. Clinging to his tongue and running down his chin. I’d grind down, smearing the mess across his nose and cheeks. bbing every trace of my arousal and his humiliation over his face until he was gagging, gulping, and swallowing everything I fed him.”

A roll of her eyes, lost in the visions now.

“Every time he gasps for air, I’d drag him deeper, making sure no drop is wasted. I’d ride his mouth until he was shaking, hands clawing at my thighs till they drew blood. Utterly drowned in the remains of our pleasure. He’d suck and slurp and lick, desperate to please, only to lose himself a little more each time. Disgraced and starved for the next messy spill.”

I tangled my fingers in her hair, dragging her head back for a slow, claiming kiss.

“Only when my thighs tremble with release would I let him go. Pulling him back by the hair to see his lips shining and tongue heavy with the aftertaste of everything I’d poured out just for him. He’d look up, ruined and broken, and I’d kiss those lips, knowing that every last drop was our gift to him. And those memories would haunt him, body and soul, for the rest of his days.”

Now my fingers freely curled inside her, stretching her as wide as I pleased. The heel of my hand pressed just right as my thumb continued to abuse her clit, relentless and teasing. Her hips jerked, thighs trembling, head thrown back as she moaned, "Ah-gods-please-"

Her words now came only broken and half-strangled. Her voice, high and desperate, just the way I liked it. "Please... oh-don't stop... need... want... please-" Her hands clawed at the counter, knuckles white. I really needed to thank the universe for the delightful mix of races.

I leaned in, biting her earlobe, letting my voice darken with hunger and promise. "You... My trembling, greedy minx. You are the eternity I have ached for. James came close, but you? You will be the one who finally, and truly, completes me."

Her breath caught as a wild sob tore loose. Her hips rolled up into my hand, clenching around my fingers as if to hold me inside her forever. Tears streaked her cheeks. Pleasure and shame and helpless defeat mingling in every sound. I slowed just enough to make her whimper, then pressed harder, deeper, and mercilessly.

Sylvie could barely form any words now. Her moans turning into hopeless pleas. Her whole body tensing, waiting for my command, aching for the release that only I could give.

"Every time you let yourself be used. Every time you spread for me, or for anyone I choose. Every time you ache to be filled, to be my delightful little cumrag, it will be entirely your choice to erase James."

I kept her flailing on the verge.

"Little by little, he’ll fade. Each fuck, every thick, messy load pumped inside you, he'll drift further. One day, he will simply be a ghost. A hazy memory. Something you’ll feel as a distant ache, nothing more, when someone else is spilling into you."

She whimpered, hips rolling, still trapped at the very edge I chose to dangle her off.

"That’s your real birth, my love. Him vanishing, as you’re filled. Pulse pounding, hips open and greedy, your old self leaking out between your thighs… while you moan your way into everything you were meant to be."

Her voice broke even as she struggled to find her next words. "But why all this humiliation? Why this perverse craving to destroy me… James? Why torture him, when you know I would give up everything, my very life, for you?"

I went still, divine fury crackling in the air, fingers still rooted inside her. “Don’t you dare speak of throwing away your life for anyone. Not even for me.”

I gripped her chin painfully, forcing her gaze to mine. "It is for that life, for the very pulse beneath your skin, that I show you my truest nature tonight."

I let the wrath fade, waiting for it to leave something only softer behind.

I brushed her wet hair from her cheek. "Baby, do you know what I really am?"

She tried to speak, but I silenced her with my gaze.

"This is my one true lie to you. I’m not the goddess of the hunt, not really. The simpler named me that, too simple to comprehend what I truly am, so I played along."

I kissed her temple, feeling her pulse.

"They think I hunt with arrows. But I hunt with inevitability. Nothing escapes my pull. Prey or lover, wish or truth, life or death."

I let the words coil around her, drawing from every mask I'd worn, and every myth that tried and failed to define me.

"I let them sing their hunting songs and offer first blood, and I always smiled. What a charming misunderstanding. I am no huntress, darling."

Another kiss, softer this time.

"I am the reason the arrow falls. The ache that calls the prey home. The decree that makes all the gods kneel when the hunt is done. I let them believe that I chase shadows. In truth, I simply wait. I am inevitable, and all things, all words, come home to me."

Just then, Sylvie gasped, hips arching up to drown my fingers further. "I... ah, know what you are..." Another moan, her head tossing, breath caught in her throat. "Mmmff-Cali... I-mmm-always knew-ahh..."

I arched an eyebrow, genuinely amused. No one, not the greatest of minds and not even the gods, ever guessed right. "Oh? Do tell, love. You'd be the first."

She tried to catch her breath, words dissolving into moans. “Everyone’s got secrets, you know… and I always figured you’d tell me yours when you were ready.” Another shudder wracked her; my fingers never relented.

I leaned in. “Enough stalling. Say it. Tell me what you see.”

Her body clenched, her answer tumbling out, breathless but certain. “You’re… Gravity…nnghhh.”

~o~O~o~
 
Only the Greedy Get to Ascend

---

That froze me, everything held still in all the universes. For a heartbeat, I forgot to move. “How did you?”

She squeezed my wrist, panting, voice trembling between pleasure and revelation. "Mmm-not now… I'll- oh, gods-tell you later-can't... mmm... can't think right now..."

I laughed in awe as I pressed deeper, letting the truth continue to roll out:

"I love him to pieces, you know. James gives me a tenderness no god or monster ever could. Warmth, laughter, a place to rest my head during a storm. He makes me want to stay, experience mortality with him when all my nature ever wanted was to roam."

I paused, my breath trembling before the grand confession. I needed her to hear this, to know the truths that broke and built me for all eternity.

“But I am what I am. The hunger that pulls worlds apart and aches to collapse under my own impossible weight..."

My finger’s ploughing her in earnest now.

“My dear love, gravity never chooses what it draws close. I don’t get to decide who’s consumed, who’s remade, who’s ruined. Choice is a gift denied to the gods. My very essence aches for more. Always. It isn’t betrayal. It isn’t cruelty. It’s simply abundance. I love James, but that love never quieted the hunger for everything else. No mortal could ever fill that void.”

I trailed my fingers down her ribs, feeling her shudder. “I was made for wanting. For collision. For disaster and for new beginnings. For being torn apart and stitched together again in infinite ways. One gentle man could never claim all that I am, not when the whole cosmos trembles inside me.”

I bent to her ear. “I am the devourer, and I’m devoured back. I’m the virgin and the harlot; the starved girl and the feast. What I nurture, I destroy. Helping you become my Sylvie means letting James fade. It’s not malice. It is the only way I know to love.”

A pause, my palm settling over her heart. “I chose this shape. Female, goddess, flesh. Because it is how I can temper so much want without splintering reality itself. This gender, this ache, it’s the archetype.”

My next words needed to cut through everything. Clear as daylight, so she would understand without a shadow of doubt.

“Only when you embody the literal definition of greed, a force so ravenous it draws all abundance to itself. Can you truly understand what I crave, my love? I hunger for everything. James was so many things, but never wide or deep enough to envelop me. It is my truth.”

I brushed hair from her cheek, my voice a hush wrapped in velvet. “It’s been a lonely journey, love. This endless ache. A force that pulls whole worlds close but always remains alone at the centre. I’ve walked through all of creation waiting for someone who might survive it, who might want to share it with me.”

My hand cupped her jaw, reverent now. “But you… You are the miracle. The answer the cosmos gave to everything I ever needed and everything I never had. I am the mistress of all time and space. I can twist every star to my will, I birth black holes as easy as breathing, and still, all my power lies at the mercy of your consent.”

I let silence fall, the air between us heavy with everything I’d never spoken. “In all my lifetimes, Sylvie, I’ve hungered for the impossible. And here you are, that very impossibility I never saw coming. The one thing I would give up infinity for. All that I am, aching for all that you could be.” 

My gaze unfocused, vision drifting distant, the black holes inside me flickering, each one a universe now. "Love, every universe that emerges from my domain will be yours to own. I might rule over singularities, but you, you’re the exception that will defy all equations. You’ll be the flaw in the pattern, the origin of wonder, and the one brilliance all of existence will bow down to."

My fingers never stilled, coaxing shudders from her depths, drawing out every tremble. Sylvie’s breath hitched, a gasp caught between shame and ecstasy. “Nggg… don’t… don’t stop…”

Science will find the words soon enough, and we will have all the time in eternity to learn who you truly are. But this much is certain: I am omniscient. Yet this, this is the only life where I choose to stay in a mortal form. Because only here did I find my love."

Sylvie's thighs trembled, held just right, and being refused the release she craved. 

“But now, while it still matters to him. While James still wants to exist, while you still want him to exist. I promise to be everything he ever wanted in a wife.”

I let my rhythm drift, not letting her tip over.

“I’ll be his perfect woman. I’ll wake him with a mouthful of cock every morning, ride him in every fantasy shape he ever dreamed, fuck him stupid until his legs give out.”

A whimper escaped her. I bit back a smile, stroking harder now.

“At home, I’ll be the slut he always wanted. Take him in every hole. Beg for his cum. Even let him tie me up and do all the filthy things he never dared to ask for.”

Her body arched, desperate for more.

“I’ll even borrow your form and your memories if you let me. Let him fuck his future self, if that stirs him one last time. As long as he wants it, as long as you desire it, James will be my only man, and I’ll be everything he could never say aloud. All he needs to do is ask. 

My fingers kept her trembling on the brink as intended.

“And there’s no rush, my love. Time and space mean nothing to us now. An entire lifetime’s just a drop in the ocean.”

I leaned in, lips grazing her temple.

“We’ll give James the loving farewell he deserves. Celebrate his life, his love, his gentle spirit. Every last, earth-shattering moment.”

A soft, needy moan escaped her lips as the only response she could muster.

“You’ll come to the fore for good when his cock withers away that final time. When he finally understands he’s no longer needed.”

I stroked her hair, gently, grounding.

“And you know, don’t you, that you can still wear his skin after? Slip into his shape, grow a cock. Any size you fancy, darling. You can even leave a fragment, a perfect little echo of him in that shell, ready to slip between worlds. Reality’s generous to you now.”

I kept my voice gentle even as she shivered, caught between the heaven and hell I chose to keep her in. 

“If James wants to chase his masculinity, we’ll let him fuck whoever he likes, won’t we? Dryads, nereids, succubi. Even those lust-mad lesser goddesses. Always desperate for a story to brag about. Even you… In time.”

A wicked grin, as I let my fingers tease her open, not quite filling her.

“I won’t even need to borrow your form by then. You’ll be more than capable of fucking yourself or him once you grow into who you are.”

Her body clenched, hungry for the next promise.

“There’ll be a queue of creatures wanting a tumble with the mortal who claimed their so-called goddess of the hunt. And James? He’ll manage at first. Swimmingly, even. But sooner or later, he’ll need more help, more coaxing, more everything. Because in time, you, my love, will crave being stuffed rather than doing the stuffing.”

My hand slid lower, two fingers sinking all the way in, parting her until she buzzed with need. The heat between her thighs soaked my knuckles, every tremor making it apparent that she was nobody’s husband now. Only my plaything

"You are soaking for me. Tell me, love, how do you think James would feel if he could see us now? Knowing that all you can think about is a cock so much bigger than his little pecker. Shaking apart for something he could never give either of us. Poor boy never stood a chance, did he?"

I pinched her nipple, hard and slow, rolling it between my fingers until her whimpers turned to helpless sobs. "That’s right, let it hurt. Let it mark you. You’re no man. You’re just my mess, my delicious, dripping mess."

I guided her hand to my cock, making her wrap her fingers tight around the thick, pulsing length. "Hold it. Feel its weight, its girth, the way it throbs for you. This is what you’re choosing, love. What you’re surrendering to, robbing our dear James of whatever scraps of manhood he has left. Every second now, you’re helping him fade, turning him into a shadow. Beloved, but nothing more than a ghost.".

Her fist tightened, pumping me slow, as if she might hold on to what she was losing by worshipping the thing that would take it all away. "That’s it. Learn it, love it. Because James’s manhood will shrivel just from the thought of what you’re about to take. He will never be able to compete, never measure up, never make me ache like you will. It’s only a matter of time before neither of us can remember why we ever cared for his lovely but insufficient pecker at all. All you will want is to be split open, filled, and taken along with me. Isn’t that our new truth love?"

Her hand moved with growing greed now, mouth parted in shame and hunger. With every pulse of my cock, her hips rolled up to meet my thrusting hand. Her blush crept to her ears, a flush of need she could never deny again.

I bent to her breast, teeth scraping her nipple, sucking until her sob turned to a broken little wail. I left her wet, red, and marked. "Cry for me, darling. Let yourself unravel. There’s nothing left to mourn.”

She was wild now, hips bucking, honey dripping down to soak my hand. Her body, entirely betraying her now. "Work for it," I breathed in her ear. "Get me ready. That’s your job now. To make me hard. To make yourself useful. Show me how desperate you are to be ravished. Look at yourself. So empty you can barely breathe, so eager for me to fuck away every last memory of James through your greedy little snatch.”

Her eyes brimmed now, sobs accompanying each moan. The agony of loss and the perverse pleasure of being twisted into what I desired, splitting her apart. She was now wrapped around me entirely, convulsing in pleasure, renouncing everything she had been. 

"You’re mine now. You always have been, but I still want you to beg for it."

I cradled her, brushing away the tears as I held her together, even as my fingers worked her harder. I was pushing her closer to the edge with every pulse. 

I leaned in, my breath ghosting her ear. "That's it, pet. Stroke what you crave. You want this, don't you? To be filled so deep, his name won’t even fit inside you."

She stroked me now with a kind of dazed reverence, as if she’d dreamed this shame and only now believed it real. Her hips met every push, desperate, teetering at the edge.

I tipped her chin up with wet fingers, making her look at me. "Good girl. Feel it, every inch. This is the hunger that will swallow James whole. Every squeeze, every drip, you’re making sure he fades for good. Tell me, darling, do you like how it feels to be claimed? Let's make sure you do. So much so that even his memory can’t reach you anymore?"

I let her ride the edge hard now, fingers never quite giving in. I intended to her stranded in exquisite want a little longer.

"I am everywhere and everywhen. We have a whole lifetime to live here, if you wish. James is a healer; the world would benefit from him. Wear that skin whenever the urge takes you. Save lives, mend wounds, grab a drink with the boys, give comfort. But know this, love. You’ll never truly be him once you bloom. Not in your bones, not in your hunger, and never in your deepest desires. The world may see whatever you choose to show it, but I will always see only my Sylvie."

And as I continued to speak, Sylvie whimpered, moaned, and surrendered to my fingers entirely, even as my stroking morphed to pumping. Her every gasp, every twitch, every needy pulse, was proof that she fully understood my desires now.

Her breathing came in jagged bursts, moans slipping between broken words. Her eyes shone, tears trembling on her lashes. "He really will be gone soon, won't he?" she choked, voice breaking. "James... he's going to die, right?"

I brushed my lips against her cheek, licking away the salt of her fear. "Soon is a matter of perspective, love. Days, months, years, a whole lifetime. None of it's really relevant anymore." I kissed her again, softer. "And no, never dead. Beautiful souls don't die, ever; they simply transform. James will vanish, yes, but you'll be here, and that's all that matters."

Her hand tightened around the shaft, pulling on it, the other hand desperately guiding me lower, her need now frantic with longing. I relented, my cock finally rubbing her clit in deep, slow circles, kissing her neck as she melted under my touch. Her hips coiled up, chasing every motion, moans dissolving into helpless whimpers.

I nuzzled behind her ear. 

"What do you want, Sylvie? Shall we start erasing our little James now?"

Sylvie let out a shaky laugh between moans. "That might take a while. James is... resilient."

I smirked. "Yes, like a cockroach."

Sylvie shot me a wounded look. "Really, Cali?"

I grinned, stroking her deeper. "Oh, darling, that was a compliment. Cockroaches are the pinnacle of resilience. Survivors of the impossible. I expect James will cling to 'soon' as tightly as possible. We might get a full lifetime out of him yet."

"But James isn’t here now. So say it. Beg for it. Show me what you’re becoming."

She let out a strangled, shattering moan. I seized her chin, holding her steady, her face a wreck, tears and drool and mouth open in pleading.

“Please—please—fuck me—”

She said the magic words, and my response was to kiss her hard, to devour her before she could utter another sound.

~o~O~o~
 
Infinity Does Not Apologise

---

She gasped against my mouth, the heat between us alive now, like we were birthing a star from sweat.. 

I broke the kiss only long enough to drink her in. Lips swollen, eyes wild with longing.“That’s it, my love. Give me everything.”

Her nails scored my back, not in protest but as if to anchor herself to the moment. One last desperate grip before complete surrender.

My cock was now pressing slowly and deliberately against her soon-to-be insatiable womanhood. Each word and every inch pushing her further from the man she’d been, her trembling hips rolling up to meet me, desperate and afraid.

As I stretched her open, letting her feel every slow, merciless push, she whimpered, “but James…”

I bent low, lips at her ear, my voice molten as I pressed deeper, hips flush to hers. "My love. James was never meant to last. Nearly every immortal form, except a few very distasteful beasts, is female and fertile. Made to bear life, to be filled, to birth the next miracle or disaster. Immortality was never his to claim. But you, Sylvie... Immortality is your birthright."

She froze, shock flickering through the tears and hunger in her gaze. I held her, my fingers still teasing her open, my body flush with hers.

"Yes, love. All of this... this grand risk, just so I could hold you forever. I never meant for any of this. Not until I saw the impossible gift reality had shaped for me. James was always meant to have an end. He is a bright, magical, astonishing spark, but far too brief in the grand scheme of things. Too short for anyone else to mourn, but too much for me to survive losing. I would have grieved him for eternity. A tragedy spanning forever and beyond. The man who broke a goddess and the goddess who broke herself by loving him."

My lover went still. Eyes glossy, tears spilling before she could blink them away. Her chest shuddered. One broken breath, and then another.

Her voice came out, filled with love so tender. “Never. No matter what it takes. Even if it means remaking myself for eternity, Cali, my love, I would never leave your side. Not while I exist. Not while I have anything to give.”

She pulled me down, clutching. Her mouth moved against me with the aching tenderness of endless promise. Gentle, desperate, something only a woman’s heart could give. Like a mother chasing nightmares away from her child. Like an oath pressed soft into the soul.”

She kissed me until her tears soaked my face. She whispered it between gasps, words tripping, breaking, “I will be yours… I will never leave, not in this world, not in any other.”

And only then, only after the vow, after I let myself believe, did her body move. She felt me, really felt me, deep and throbbing, and realised she was the one pulling me in. Her hips bucked, lips parted, all that pain reforged into untamed hunger. Her eyes rolled back, mouth falling open, breath snagging in her throat.

Her hips arched, her body searching for me, drawn up to the head of my cock without a single word or command. Her eyes went wide with the shock of it, gasping as she realised she was pulling me in, that her first true fucking was something she had claimed for herself. 

Her mouth fell open as an endless moan poured forth. "Ahhh… mmm… yes… please… oh baby… more…" The sound that spilt out wasn’t lust, not then. It was relief. Honey to my ears. Breath and want, half words, half whimpers, the music of surrender.

I wrapped her in my arms. My hands on her waist, her back, anywhere I could hold. She clung to me, nails biting, tears still slick on her cheeks. I kissed them away. Tasted the salt of her promise. Tasted myself in her as I let her experience every inch as she opened for me.

“But now,” I murmured, “eternity is ours.” My grip never faltered. “In this body, in every body, wrapped around each other, wrapped in each other. Ours, forever. However we wander, we start and end here.”

I kissed her deep, swallowing the tremble in her lips as my cock slid further inside. Her gasp broke open against my tongue, ahhh, that perfect, ruined sound. Sharp with shock, soft with the helpless awe of being taken for the very first time. I felt her legs tense around me, her nails digging into my back as I pushed deeper still. I was intent on taking her through pain into pleasure and back again while I continued to set my terms.

She glued herself to me, tears streaking her flushed cheeks. "I want this... ah... only... on one... condition..." Each word staggered out, cut by my first gentle thrusts and the aftershocks rolling through her.

I dove in now, still slow but ruthless, filling her inch by inch, stealing her breath every time i made her body betray her. I drew back, lips gliding down to her throat, then her breast, sucking her nipple until her hips jerked, and I pulled her down hard, pushing in to the hilt. Her whole body arched back, a fresh gasp wrenching loose as she realised just how fully she was impaled.

"There," I purred in glee. "See, love? Nymphs and apsaras were built to swallow entire realms. A cock is nothing. And you, my sweet, dripping little slut, are both at once. But I remember you hadn't finished speaking yet. What is this one condition?"

She tried to form words, whole body trembling, voice thin. "Does forever have an end?" It came out half a sob, half a plea, even as I dragged my thumb over her cheek, catching the salt and heat. Then I thrust deep, drawing another sharp, desperate shriek from her lips. I laughed softly, letting the sound curl around her like a leash. "Only if I want it, love. Only when I crave something else. But why ask? Why now?"

She shuddered violently, tears and sweat tangled in her hair, voice rising in a fierce, broken shout. "No! When WE want it. Not just you. Not anymore. My one condition, my only law. it is never again just I. It is always WE."

The last word ripped open the very fabric of reality. Power shot from her throat straight into the bones of the world, ripping through me with a force that left me staggering. In that instant, I felt myself stripped, not just of choice but of something deeper. This was my first defeat, my divinity now lay at her feet, and oh, how I gloried in it. I would worship her for it, on the very altar she built from her own wreckage and mine.

My reckless heart pounded now. Every beat loud enough to shudder through my ribs and into hers. I drove into her harder now, the wet slap of our bodies echoing off the walls. Her hands clawing for anything to anchor her while I fucked her right to the edge. Only when I felt her tighten and tremble, the world shrinking to the heat between us, did I lean in. My lips dragging across the soft curve of her ear, my breath now burning.

I held Sylvie close, bodies knotted, sweat slick, the ache between us swelling. But underneath it all, I felt the clock ticking, a beat not of pleasure but of dread.

“You do know,” I murmured the dare, “now that you exist, my brother will do everything in his power to bed you right? That’s what he does best.”

She barely heard me at first, too close to breaking. So I slowed down and waited for that perfect moment. Then I whispered my filth straight into the shell of her ear. 

“He’ll come for you, Sylvie. He always does. Dominant, relentless. Never sated, never gentle. He’ll chase you across lifetimes. He’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse. Pleasure, pain, and the kind of devastation that tastes like worship. 

She shivered, but I made her see it, made her know. “You might be beyond his power, but not beyond his reach. And you, love, you’re a prize he’d bleed the world to claim. James… he’d be nothing to Ashrael. An inconvenience to wipe away with his spend. James would not survive, and it will be on Ashrael’s terms.”

I breathed hard, almost to the point of pain.

“And… you’ll give in, because that’s what happens to everyone and everything he desires. It’s inevitable. You’ll drop to your knees, you’ll beg for him, let him spill himself down your throat, rip you apart, fill you till you forget every name but his.”

I watched her tremble, watched the pulse leap in her throat. “And you’ll savour every filthy second. You’ll let him use you, take you every way he knows, again and again, until you black out into messy nothingness. You’ll wake up aching, desperate to feel him again, just to see if he can fuck you into forgetting you ever existed before him.”

My rhythm shifted faster now, but my power was all in the words.

“But here’s the truth.” I bit her shoulder, claimed her whimper. “Let him drown you, darling. Revel in it. I will, too. I want to watch you debase yourself, want to see the moment you surrender to hunger itself. But you…” My hand fisted in her hair, tugged her gaze to mine, “... you will not break.. Not ever.”

I brushed her hair back, lips to her ear. “That’s why I need you to choose this, Sylvie. To finish the work ourselves. James’s ending must be his own, yours to claim. Not taken by my brother’s monstrous nature. But as an act of your will and desire. With agency. With love.”

I kissed her then, feeding her every ounce of my devotion. “James’s erasure will never be a ruin. Not while we can still offer him choice. He will go out in lthe ight, not in Ashrael’s shadow.”

She blinked tears, eyes fierce now. “Never alone,” she whispered. “Only you. Never him. I’ll make sure of it.”

Her eyes blazed. Her body trembled on the edge.

“You’ll lose yourself, yes. For a few filthy, shattering moments, you’ll be his. Wrecked and ruined, exactly as he wants. You might let him use you, ruin you, fill you until you can’t remember where you began. But only because you choose it. You’ll savour your own disgrace. You’ll crawl for him, whimper for more, let him fill you with every drop he can muster.”

But listen to me, he’ll never get what you truly are. Never. Because as you learn surrender tonight, you surrender by choice. By love. By your own wild will. Agency will be your greatest strength moving forward.”

My rhythm shifted, deeper, slower.

“And when he’s spent, when even Ashrael lies exhausted and panting, you’ll grab him by the neck and by his monster balls and claim dominion over even him. Just like you did with me.”

I was marking her with each thrust now. “Let him wreck you, and you will desire it. But you, my love, will always come back to me.”

With that, I drove her over. Not as a trophy, not as a ruin, but as my chosen, my equal, my beautiful, inevitable disaster. Ours to claim, not his to destroy.

I thrust, making the vow physical. “No force in any world will ever truly own you, Sylvie. Not a god, not a monster, not my brother and not even I. But you will always return, only to me. Soaked, starved, and entirely, gloriously yours.”

She was at the very edge now, just one more push. “But remember this. You may have agency, but I will make you ache, crave, and come apart every time I desire it. You are mine, only mine. You will not deny me, and not even lust will compare to me.” And... there, with that final thrust, I drove her into the abyss

She shattered into a million pieces just as I intended, her orgasm rolling through her like a tsunami. Her body seized and arched, as her voice was torn out of her in an endless cry. Fingers now making my back bleed as she desperately tried to find solid ground.

Her face contorted in rapture, tears still streaming from her eyes. Her lips were now only capable of half-words, gasps, nonsense prayers, and curses. Her thighs clamped around me, shaking like trees in a storm, while I kept her wrapped tight. I was going to work her through every last pulse and tremor until she was wrung out and whimpering.

For the longest moment, she lay on top of me, broken and beaming, her chest heaving against mine, mouth damp with tears and triumph. Then she blinked, realising I hadn’t finished yet. Then she blinked, and everything inside her settled into something unmistakable. She noticed I hadn’t finished. Her arms looped my neck, she pulled herself up, hips sinking down slow, deliberate and wholly possessive.

With the glint of her inner succubus unleashed, she settled onto me. Savouring the power, savouring the turnabout. The pace was all hers, and her rhythm brooked no challenge. Every roll of her hips was a reminder that I was simply the altar she intended to worship herself upon.

She bent close, lips ghosting my cheek, voice rich and mocking, still breathless with laughter. “Let’s get something straight. Lust was never his truth. That is just the mask, the stupid cover to keep the world’s guessing. The simple little lie that nobody seemed to have looked past. “

She rocked harder, her grin just wicked now. “That fool is entropy in flesh. Ashrael is chaos crowned, hunger without shame, the itch under every skin, the rot that waits in every sweet fruit. He’s the bastard who would rather break a thing just to hear it shatter than wait for beauty to bloom. Patience? Not his game."

She paused, rolling her hips even deeper, her voice dropping even as she drew a groan out of me. “He is not evil, though, never evil.”

~o~O~o~
 
Even Heroes have their Dirty Little Kinks

---

She let the question hang, then drove harder, stealing my breath. “He gives himself away without hesitation. If he calls you a friend, then you are never alone. He’ll stand beside you in the gutter, toast you on the rooftop, fight every demon at your back.”

Her pace snapped, relentless now. “And his greatest delight is setting the world free from its own restraints, just to see what strange and wondrous shapes it might take in the fall.”

She slowed, gaze trapping mine, lips curling into a dare. “So, Calystra, how close am I?”

For a heartbeat, I could only stare, chest heaving. Undone my lover's gift. Stunned at how neatly she’d cracked him open. Mapped with a lover’s clarity, but I was Annoyed now, she hadn’t done the same for me. “Bloody hell, Sylvie. You just cracked open one of the oldest secrets in existence. Yet nothing for me?”

She laughed, lush and cocky, clenching tight around me. “Blame your fingers. Hard to concentrate when you’re drowning knuckle-deep for the first time.”

Her nails raked down my back as she leaned in. “But don’t worry, I wrote a book about you, my love. My dear Calystra. All your little truths, all the rules, all the ways you come undone.”

I arched, grinning despite myself. “You’ll need to read it to me at bedtime, then.”

She laughed again, low and wicked. “Only if my mouth’s not otherwise occupied, love.”

She slid down on me, hard, making the world dissolve. And in that moment, I knew. No one in existence had ever seen us so truly. Sylvie hadn’t just peered behind the masks. She’d split the universe in two, naming both our natures and daring us to live with the mess.

I stroked her flushed cheek, drawing out a purr. "No point hiding the blush, hon. Entropy or not, my brother is magnificent. But he is hunger with no leash. Lust only in the way that he wants to ruin everything beautiful and then feast on the wreckage. He’s the cosmic equivalent of getting drunk at a wedding and fucking the cake in front of the in-laws.”

She was sucking all of me into her now as I continued, “I adore him, but I pity anyone he nears. I’ve been cleaning up after his legendary messes since existence itself started licking its wounds." I let myself laugh, a wild and unholy sound. "Supernovae? That’s him, darling. That’s Ashmael literally fucking stars into oblivion."

Sylvie stared, stunned, her hips pausing for a heartbeat as the sheer absurdity sank in. I caught her jaw and smiled, almost gentle. "Sad but true, pet. The universe is filthier than any legend dares, and my brother is always the first to make it messier."

She grinned down at me, hips grinding in that maddening, velvet rhythm. She was scandal promised in a single breath. “I know his brand of chaos, love. Still can’t get that night in Olympus out of my head.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell it to me again… I adore it when you do the storytelling.”

She clucked her tongue, fucking me harder. “Done. Ashrael at his absolute worst, or maybe his finest, hard to say which. Dragged me….ok… James, to the Olympian bathhouses for his birthday. Promised he’d behave… which, as we both know, is the surest sign he wouldn’t.”

She rolled her hips faster, riding the memory and me with equal intent. “The place was crawling with myths and immortals, all showing off in the male baths, you know the sort.”

I let a satisfied hum roll out. “Had my share of romps there, myself.”

Sylvie bit my lip, then suddenly reached down and pinched both my nipples, drawing a pained whimper from me. “Right now, you only get to dream about … and cream in me, woman. Plenty of time for debauchery later.”

I pouted, sulking. “Spoilsport.”

She just laughed, squeezing down with her velvet noose. Reminding me, without a word, exactly who owned whom now.

She continued, letting the story slide between us, harder with each beat. “Ashrael found himself a minotaur, Brontes. Big as a lorry, muscles stacked on muscles. His wife, the centauress, Evanthe, sharp as a tack with legs that went on forever. Of course, Ashrael knew her well, from all her wild single days. She never trusted him. Not after how their little ‘romps’ ended and every soul in that bathhouse knew why.”

Sylvie leaned in, breath searing the curve of my neck. “So, there’s our turd, striking up a chat with poor Brontes. Of course, within minutes, the conversation’s crawling exactly where he wants it. Then, the little shit gets to work. Form rippling, a nymph, a dryad, and a Lamia. Flirting shamelessly, playing every dirty little trick to fuck up a man’s mind.”

She bucked her hips, starting her buildup to the storm. “Next thing, ‘she’ has her hand wrapped round the bull’s cock, stroking him, purring into his ear. ‘Ever wondered how it would be on the other side, darling?’ One stuttered yes. Just one moment of thinking with his dick and that was it.”

She rocked harder, voice pure wickedness. “One flash, and the big bad minotaur was now the most dazzling kemonomimi cowgirl Olympus had ever seen. Anime-perfect, built to be bred, every otaku’s fantasy let loose in marble and steam.”

I snorted, writhing under her control. “Men and your bloody anime fetishes...”

Sylvie only ground down harder, breath scorching. “Remember the deal, goddess. You promised to be every single thing James wants.”

I laughed, my hips arching up to meet her. “Oh, I remember. I can already guess one disgusting little fantasy my darling hubby will want next.”

Sylvie bent in, biting my lip, voice low and dark. “Cockroach, baby. He’ll be a champion cockroach. Thriving in whatever we throw at him, surviving everything for an entire lifetime”

I laughed, loving every word. “Wouldn’t want him any other way.”

The air was thick with the moans in her memory. “Ashrael was already halfway to breeding and milking that new beauty. He’d made her in the image of a perfect milf, you know. Body built like she’d been bred a hundred times over—”

Sylvie’s eyes glazed, and I cut in with a knowing smirk, “And I’d bet James wants his turn with her, hmm?”

And indeed her face flushed, biting her lip before she continued.

“—hips wide, belly small but soft, tits swollen and blushing, every single one of those six nipples already leaking, but not a mark or flaw on her. Designed to be fucked, filled, and milked. Again and again.”

She picked up the story, even as she continued to melt my cock. “That cowgirl, she looked like she’d be bred for aeons to come, and never once lose that perfect, begging-for-it look. Poor James. Frozen, caught between outrage and the kind of hard-on that leaves bruises.”

And so I pressed, “Or would you rather be her?”

Sylvie just grinned as she drove deeper. Breath ragged. “Mmm…however will we unravel that mystery?”

The memory was her riding me now. “She was pinned to the wall, Ashrael buried in her, to the hilt. Bastard sprouted eight arms and six extra heads. Everyone busy, sucking, groping, flashing James two thumbs up like the world’s filthiest conductor."

I wanted every sordid detail. “Tell me more,” I panted, hips rising to meet hers. “Speak their words, Sylvie. Make me live it.”

She gave me a scandalised look, “You’re a world-class perv, Cali.”

I grinned, biting her shoulder, refusing to let her off the hook. “Infinity-class, darling. Don’t hold back now.”

She only answered by grinding, until I nearly lost my grip on the world. Then, after a deep, greedy breath, she obliged.

“And all the while, one of Ashrael’s heads leaned in, purring his perversions. ‘Family affair, isn’t it? 'First the wife, now your big daddy, my little Miss Milkshake.' You could see her hesitate, almost say no, but our dear little manwhore just pulled back, left her empty, made her beg for it. Only when she whimpered the words he demanded, hips chasing, would he let her close again.”

Sylvie’s hips moved faster, eyes peering into mine as she spoke. “She licked her lips, desperate, voice ragged. “‘Pleeease…’ she would weep, wild for him. ‘Daddy, don’t stop…’ He’d freeze, knuckle under her chin, voice all velvet threat. ‘Not until you say it, suckle-blossom. Thank me. Thank me for fucking you and your wife. Be a good girl. Tell Daddy what a good thing it is.’”

I was panting now, completely at her mercy as she went on. “Only took some more teasing until she broke, it was barely a whisper, ‘Thank you, Daddy… thank you for fucking us… I’m your good girl—’

‘Mmm…’ His palm slid down her trembling belly. ‘Wanna be more than good?’ And like a broken toy, she squealed, ‘Yesss! Daddy! Anything—’

He only growled in return, ‘Scream it.’ His hips snapped, just once. ‘Isn’t being a mommy the best? Now.’”

Sylvie rode me like she meant to break me, and gods, I let her.

“Her voice shattered the room: ‘MAKE YOUR LITTLE SUCKLE BLOSSOM A MOMMY, DADDY! PUT YOUR BABY IN ME! PLEASE! PLEASE!’”

Sylvie bent forward, caught my nipple between her lips, sucked gently, then bit harder, dragging out a gasp. She rose up, mouth sticky, grinning like a devil.

“He pistoned, no more teasing. Just ownership. Her cries dissolved into sobs, each slap of skin a punctuation to the vow. ‘Yesss! Daddy’s blo—AH!—ssom! CUMMING! CUMMING FOR DADDY!’"

Her laughter flowed freely now. “And that’s when the wife comes storming in, hooves clattering on marble, eyes blazing. She’d heard every needy moan and frantic moo from the other side of the door and just knew her husband was in the thick of something unspeakable.”

She switched to my other nipple, sucking and then leaving another sharp bite before coming up for air. “Mmm. That’s the trick, isn’t it? Every side gets its fill. Any moment now…”

She kissed me again, lips wet, voice cracking into a laugh, before continuing.

“She bursts in to find her proud minotaur now a drooling, cowgirl. Legs shaking, eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open and drooling. The poor thing’s not just whimpering, but letting out helpless, desperate moos with every thrust, squealing, ‘Fuck your little cow, Daddy! '”

The laugh was bubbling up between her gasps. 

Right then, your brother slammed home as he came deep inside her. And she… Voice cracking, body convulsing, milking him for everything as she collapsed into her own orgasm. Milk gushing, twat leaking, helpless moos breaking free with every other breath.”

She was laughing audibly now.

“She even manages a sloppy, fucked stupid grin at her wife, cum and milk streaked and moos, ‘Wanna join the fun, honey?’”

“Evanthe nearly ripped Ashrael’s balls clean off. Full banshee, hooves flying, fists pounding.” Sylvie finally let out that wicked laugh, hips slamming down.

“Chaos thick enough to choke on. Only James. Gentle, mortified James, could wedge himself between them.”

She caught my jaw, fully embracing the absurd in totality now. “And here’s where your bastard brother gets truly legendary.” She snapped her hips again, and I nearly cried out, her voice trembling with glee as she realised she had me entirely in her grasp.

“By the time the steam cleared and the shouting died down. He had wormed his way back into everyone’s good graces. Sweet talk, sly grins, that impossible charm." Her laughter broke loose, rich and unstoppable, as she rode me harder.

“By midnight, he’d managed to fuck both husband and wife together in the barn behind the baths. ” She bucked, the laughter spilling from her lips uninterupted now, “and the whole bloody pantheon probably heard them.”

“Of course, he knocked them both up. Never misses a chance to make a mess, that one. Later, when the dust finally settled and they’d cried their eyes out about it all. James, sweet, traumatised James, ended up counselling them through the decision.”

Her hips were snapping down with every word that escaped her now. 

“They both kept their pregnancies. Ashrael, ever the giver, offered the wife a matching form if she fancied it. The full decadent set, promising them a happy and loving married life moving forward. She said yes, naturally. By morning, both were riding him again, giggling and glowing, absolutely delighted.”

Her grip on my nipples made my back arch in agony. “And let it be said, whatever chaos he starts, Ashrael pays for everything. The kids want for nothing. He keeps the whole odd little family set up and smiling. But of course, being nuisance personified, he left them both nearly straight, mad for each other, but craving cock every hour. Couldn’t help himself.”

Sylvie paused, eyes locked on mine. Her voice now soft, almost fond. “As you know, they left Olympus for LA after that, fit right in with the furries and the body mod crowd. Cutest bloody kids you’ve ever seen. Practically human, thanks to Ashrael’s blessing of protection. We still get their postcards. Just last week, that cask of cowgirl milk showed up. Never spoils, always sweet, your favourite pour.”

She started laughing again, “They run the most successful strip joint on the planet now. You should know, given that you are their attorney. So wildly successful, they’re pressuring the government to legalise brothels, just so they can expand.”

I let out a thoughtful hum, grinning up at her. “Hmmm, yes… we should visit them soon. Either as clients or, maybe, do a short stint as their employees?”

Sylvie froze mid-thrust, eyebrows shooting up, laughter stuttering to a shocked gasp. “You—what—?”

I just laughed, pulling her down for a kiss, wicked and slow. “Oh, don’t look so scandalised, kitten. You know that I will certainly want to see how you’d handle a pole… or a queue of regulars.”

She shook her head, disbelief melting into delighted horror. “Infinity-class pervert, Calystra. Honestly.”

I only laughed harder, letting the possibility hang, just out of reach.

~o~O~o~
 
And Thus, the Goddess Learned to Kneel

---

 

She leaned down, laughing low, hips grinding so deep I nearly saw god—well, myself, but who’s counting. My palm slid to the small of her back, holding her tight, keeping her trapped against me.

“We aren’t siblings, not really, you know,” I murmured. “That’s just the word mortals needed. Made gods more comfortable, gave them something neat to gossip about. In truth, we’re no more siblings than we’d be lovers or colleagues. The word just stuck. Two faces of the same coin. I’m the beginning and the end, he’s the ache and hunger in between. But like a coin, one side never truly sees the other.”

Sylvie gave me a wicked, curious look. "So... did you two ever—?"

I burst out laughing, letting the strength of it rattle through both our bodies. "No, never, kitten. Couldn’t if we wanted to. Parallel lines never touch. The only way the story keeps spinning."

She leaned back, grinning, her grip tightening on my shoulders, our sweat mingling in all the secret places that belonged only to us. "Looks like the coin will be entirely owned soon enough anyway," she simply stated. Her eyes pinning me in place with that impossible stare.

For a moment, I froze. Me. 'The goddess' who exists in everything. She who wrote probability into the bones of reality had to look away from those eyes. Here she was, eyebrow cocked, daring existence itself to challenge her, staking her claim in a voice so casual it tasted like prophecy.

I tried to chase her meaning, to see the path she’d already chosen, but there was nothing. Not a glimmer, not a thread. She’d declared her victory over the two oldest forces in existence, and for the first time…ever, I had no idea how she would win. But infinity help me, I knew, absolutely, without a breath of doubt, that she would.

And so, I let her ride me as slow or as savage as she pleased now. All my glory in her hands and between her legs, while I marvelled at the creature who’d just claimed everything and nothing for herself.

She was grinding me right to the edge now. I almost laughed in joy, but the sound died on my tongue. Instead, a moan tore its way from somewhere deep. She heard it and was relentless now, determined to wring every last ounce of me. My head fell back, eyes fluttering as pleasure in my belly, so close I could taste the stars.

But then, I let my nails rake down her back in return, holding her tight. My words found her ear, “Had your fun, love? Now, let me show you how a goddess claims her due.”

Sylvie answered with a whimper; she was already aching to devour anything I had left. I kissed her fierce, and desperate, and then I pulled back. I would choose my words carefully now. Each syllable would roll like thunder through her.

“James always did want kids,” I breathed, my voice twisting dangerously, hungry. “Maybe now’s the time to put that bun in your oven, darling. Or maybe—” my grip tightened, “maybe I just want to see you swollen, radiant and waddling, marked by yours truly. As full as those cowgirls that you ‘care’ so much about. 

The words hit like a hammer, and her eyes went wide. A sudden, primal terror flickered in them as her mouth fell open, a protest trembling at the edge, even as her body refused to stop riding me. My love was caught in the delicious panic of realising just how much of herself she’d handed over.

My smile curled slow as poison. “You know, I’ve always liked milk in my coffee. But I bet yours would taste better than theirs. Sweeter, thicker, straight from the source.” I traced a finger down the slope of her breast, lingering at her nipple. “Cream for a goddess, made by her perfect little slut.”

I gasped, pinching and rolling her nipples until our cries blurred together.

“Mmmm... Keep going, love. That lovely snatch isn't going to fill itself with all that baby batter, you know.”

Her eyes went everywhere now. panic and want obvious, as my words melted whatever was left of her resolve. But I silenced any future protests with a soul-searing kiss. And... she melted, every muscle turning liquid, then clenching around me so fiercely I saw constellations explode behind my eyes. This was delicious. My words must have broken her entirely. Her whole body seized, as an animal moan ripped free, the precursor to her second orgasm.

Her hips bucked, body wild, my own helpless to resist, impossible to hold back, but I had one last arrow in my quiver.

"Maybe I’ll even let my brother have a taste… if you beg me just right. But you’ll always give me the first pour, won’t you?" I managed to gasp out a vision she could never erase.

I let the story play out between us. “Maybe I’ll have him give you a new name. Something appropriate,” I rattled them off, “Buttercup, Milky Belle, Cream Puff, Velvet Moo, Udder Princess, Moo-Mama, Milfshake....”

I let the names hang, “Given your clear milf fetish, darling. How better to enjoy it than to live it?”

Her body arched, caught and trembling, and for that one moment, I didn’t know who was about to break first.

And just like that, her feral scream shattered the air. “Fuck you,” she sobbed, her orgasm ripping through her like she’d swallowed a collapsing star, light and destruction and pleasure all at once. Her cunt clenched down as it dragged me straight over the edge with her.

My own orgasm crashed through me as I came inside her in waves. Each burst, more violent than the last. A torrent that seemed to go on forever, flooding her so deep it felt like the universe itself had cracked open between her legs. I felt myself filling her until she overflowed. My seed dripping down her thighs even as her body tried desperately, hopelessly to stop it. Her muscles fluttering and clutching in one last, hopeless attempt to hoard it all.

We were creation itself and nothing at all. Just two bodies tangled in the honest wreckage of what we’d done. Broken whimpers, sweat, salt and sex clung to us like a second skin. Sylvie’s true beauty lay naked before me, wild and luminous, my salvation made flesh at last.

We would feast together. Each other first, then any being foolish or fortunate enough to wander into our orbit. 

Let the world's gossip, let the gods glare, let fate try its little tricks, let my brother whatever tangled paths he pleased. Fuck them all. Sylvie belonged only to me. Gloriously, wickedly, irrevocably mine.

Mine to worship. Mine to cherish. Mine to fuck senseless and tease until she wept. Absolutely, unshakably, mine to discover. Mine to unravel, until reality itself would be forced to speak up. I would wring its neck until it revealed why it shaped this scandalous, impossible perfection for my hands alone.

Awww.. Only moments later, my dear heart was out cold. I scooped her up, plonked her on the bed, and tucked a blanket around her. I slid in beside her… and winced. My breasts were aching and... swollen? Oh, sweet wife of a goddess. This was her surprise, wasn’t it? I’d been mouthing off about milk fantasies, and now I was the victim. Leaking like a literal dream. Not fair. Fuck all the multiverses. I need her consent, but twice now, she’s changed me without so much as a whisper. Fine. She and James both had better drain me well every damn day if they wished to be drained in return. 

I pressed my swollen nipple to Sylvie’s sleeping lips. Instinct took over, and she suckled, still dreaming, and I moaned at the relief. Five minutes, maybe more, then I guided her to the other nipple and my little baby latched on, humming happily, easing the ache. I stroked her hair, warmth flooding every inch of me as I nursed my little kitten. 

My thoughts tangled with the future.

I bent close to her sleeping form, lips brushing her fevered skin, my breath hot against her ear. “Let the stars bear witness, let the fates take note. Sleep well, love. I’ll unravel your every riddle. I’ll pull apart every secret hidden in your perfect flesh, find every answer buried within. And when I’m done—”

My words stuttered. I felt something shift. Looked down. My cock had slipped back into a slit. Vanished, just soft folds between my thighs once again. And Sylvie… gods, Sylvie had grown a cock…no awww… it was a cocklette, in her sleep. Tiny, flaccid, feminine, adorable, like a little tube of lipstick, a gentle dare from a dreaming mind. As if she were testing herself, seeing if she could love being less and less masculine. If happiness could be found in letting go.

Just the sight of it made me drool.

I decided to finish my vow before letting hunger take over once again. Where was I? Yes. “—I’ll carve my triumph into the heart of infinity itself. So it never, ever forgets just how hard I fucked its secrets loose.” Then I glanced at Sylvie’s little package and grinned. “But first, I have my lovely little wifey’s candy cane to suck on.”

I bent down, lips parted, and swallowed her whole—her soft, perfect length cradled in my mouth. Sylvie stirred in her sleep, sighing, hips pushing forward, and I moaned around her. Savouring the sweetness, the promise, and the endless, unspooling story that lay ahead.

The Beginning.