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Message-ID: <38184asstr$1031397004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Jonothon Darksong <jdarksong@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} [sapphic] Divine Intervention
Date: Sat,  7 Sep 2002 07:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Greetings.

   I have decided to submit a contribution for each catergory.  Here is the
last submission.

   J.  Darksong

   __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? 
Yahoo! Health - Feel better, live better http://health.yahoo.com

   <1st attachment, "sappho4.txt" begin>

   Sapphic Festival Entry #3 ---- B: 'Muses' Story

   Story: Divine Intervention by J.  Darksong



   Sandra stood by the bridge, watching the ferries tread by, with a heavy
heart.  Once she had loved the river, had loved to sit on its bank and
watch the boats pass by.  It had been one of the simple quiet joys of her
life...  but no longer.  For now, like most other things within her life,
the pain overwhelmed every bit of joy and happiness she'd once felt.

   Gazing down at the rushing waters, looking down the length of the river
from her vantage point high above, she toyed with the idea of jumping. 
'Why not?' she asked herself miserably.  'Without Bianca, what reason is
there to live?  If I jump...  if I die, then perhaps I can see her again.
Perhaps then the pain will stop.'

   "I wouldn't recommend it," a voice said from behind her.

   Startled, turning, Sandra found herself staring into the deep blue eyes
of a young blonde woman, wearing a ragged cut off t-shirt and a pair of
ragged jeans.  She stood around five-seven, five-eight at the most, and
looked no more than twenty three.  Her long flowing hair was done up in a
single ponytail, and despite the ethereal beauty of her face, her eyes held
a hint of sadness, as if she too had experienced pain within her life.

   "I wouldn't recommend it," she said again, walking closer.  "Jumping, I
mean.  The water looks cold to me.  Freezing.  At this time of the year,
I'm surprised it doesn't have ice floating around in it."

   Sandra turned away.  "I wasn't going to jump."

   "Good.  I'm glad," the girl said softly.  "You have too much to live for
anyway."

   Angry, upset at the unwanted intrusion into her life, Sandra whirled
around.  "Just who the FUCK are you anyway?" she asked, hands planted on
her hips.  "You don't know me.  We've never met before.  What business of
it is yours if I decided to jump or not?"

   Nonplussed, the girl leaned closer, looking into Sandra's eyes.  "So...
you WERE thinking about jumping after all, weren't you?" she asked.

   Irritated at the girl's attitude, Sandra turned away and walked off. 
She didn't need this kind of aggravation, and she didn't have the strength
of will to argue.  She heard the girl following her, heard the slap, slap,
slap of her leather sandals against the pavement, heard the girl calling
for her to stop, but she ignored her.  Sandra ran, eager to get away from
the crazy woman, then ran faster when she heard the girl's footsteps speed
up as well.  Finally, rounding a corner, she turned, panting, enraged, and
ready to give this girl a piece of her mind.

   "Listen here, you stupid cunt," she growled, as the blonde came into
range, "you better stop following me!  Leave me the hell alone!  I swear,
if you come near me again I'll beat the shit out of you, and THEN call the
police to drag your sorry butt away!"

   The girl held up her hands, placatingly.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to
bother you.  It's just...  you looked like you needed to talk to someone.
You seem like a nice enough woman, but something about you seemed to say
you were holding in a lot of pain.  If there's anyone who knows about
tragedy, it's me.  I thought you and I might talk a little bit.  That's
all. So...  what do you say?"

   Sandra sighed wearily.  For all her strangeness, the girl was polite,
and soft spoken.  Not to mention drop dead gorgeous.  In many ways, she
reminded her of Bianca.  Her Bianca.  Closing her eyes as a wave of grief
and sadness rolled through her, she breathed in deeply, trying to stem the
flow of tears welling up in her eyes with sheer willpower alone.  Finally,
in control of her emotions once more, she opened her eyes.  The blonde girl
stood there, looking at her, kindness and sympathy etched in her lovely
face.

   "Alright," Sandra said after a moment.  "We can talk.  I think I'd like
that." She glanced around.  "Hmmm.  How about the park?  Its not far from
here.  We could sit down, talk, maybe have a hot dog or two."

   "Well," the girl said, biting her lip, slightly, "how about we go back
to my place?  My apartment is just across the street, and I was planning on
making hot dogs for lunch." Sandra frowned, thinking.  "I know, it's all
kinda strange," the girl continued, "asking a complete and total stranger
into your home.  I assure you, I'm not a nutcase, or a psycho planning on
chopping you up or anything.  I swear."

   "Okay, fine," Sandra said.  "Let's go." Moving to the corner crosswalk,
she glanced back at the girl.  "Oh yeah.  We haven't even been introduced.
My name is Sandra, but my friends all call me Sandy."

   The girl took her hand, shaking it.  "Glad to meet you, Sandy.  You can
call me 'Mel.'"

   * * *

   Mel's studio apartment was surprisingly beautiful, filled with
decorative pieces of art, all set to a distinct Mediterranean style.  She
had several tastefully done oil paintings hanging in her foyer, most of
which showed a beautiful woman in a number of poses.  Sandra whistled
appreciatively as she made her way to the sofa.

   "This is quite a collection you've amassed here," she said, glancing
around.  "What do you do for a living, Mel?  Whatever it is, it must pay
pretty well."

   "I'm a...  consultant," Mel responded, going into the kitchen to make
the hot dogs.  "It pays pretty well, but its more pleasure than work.  I
guess I was just lucky enough to find something I enjoyed doing as a
career. What about you, Sandy?  What do you do?"

   Sandra sighed.  "Well...  I guess you could say I'm a writer.  I do a
lot of online stuff, short stories, but I have a couple of books floating
around as well.  It's starting to pay pretty good, but not nearly as well
as what you do.  I could never afford this many paintings on what I make."

   Mel peeked her head out from the kitchen doorway.  "Oh, well I didn't
BUY those paintings Sandy, I painted them myself.  Say, would you like
something to drink while the dogs cook?"

   Sandra did a double take.  "Did...  did you say you PAINTED all these
yourself?"

   Mel nodded.  "Yep.  There's more in the hallway and the bedroom too...
only its a bit more...  intimate.  I keep the more...  what's the word...
'platonic' stuff out here for my visitors.  So, what did you say you wanted
to drink?"

   "Uhm, Diet Coke, please," Sandra responded, getting to her feet.  "Mel,
tell me, have you ever sold any of your paintings to a museum or art show
or anything?  You've got some real talent there!"

   The blonde girl giggled.  "Well, that's sweet of you to say, Sandy, but
no, I only paint as a hobby, a way of expressing some of the feelings I
have bottled up inside me." She emerged from the kitchen carrying two diet
cokes.  "That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about too.  You seemed
so sad standing there by the river, so full of pain."

   Sandy nodded, turning towards the window, staring out into street but
seeing only the past.  "I...  had a lover," she said softly, "a soul-mate,
named Bianca.  We'd been friends all our lives, had practically grown up
together.  When we were about fourteen, we...  well, experimented with sex,
you know, with each other." She sighed again, deeply, feeling the pain of
loss welling up within her anew.  "It had been magical.  From that moment
on, we knew we were meant for each other.  It was hard, though.  Her
parents were very religious; her father was Pastor at a Methodist church,
and they were forever preaching the evils of sex.  So we kept our
relationship a secret, and over the years it grew and blossomed." Sandy
managed a weak smile, remembering the good times.  "We were very happy."

   Mel had walked over to the window, and placed her arms gently around
Sandra's shoulders.  "It sounds as if what you shared together was
beautiful," she said softly.  "So why were you so sad?"

   "Everything was perfect," she continued after a moment.  "We both grew
up, graduated, and moved in together as roommates.  I became a writer, and
started selling my material online and in the major bookstores.  Bianca
found work at a law firm as a secretary.  Each day she would go off to her
job, while I worked at home, and each night when she returned, we would
make deep passionate love.  It was a good life...  until, that day." Tears
began to flow now, but Sandra no longer tried to restrain them.

   "My parents," she said, sobbing, "they knew about me, knew my sexuality,
and while they weren't exactly happy, they said I was an adult, and able to
make my own decisions.  But Bianca's folks...  well, one day they came by
for a surprise visit and found Bianca and I, naked in bed together, and...
and they totally FREAKED!  They started screaming, calling us both
heathens, telling Bianca that she had devils in her, that she was evil. 
Their own DAUGHTER!  We tried to talk to them, tried to explain, but they
wouldn't listen, wouldn't HEAR any of it.  Her father started preaching,
and didn't stop until Bianca and I were wailing in our tears.  They took
her with them when they left, and though I begged her not to go, she went
with them."

   Mel hugged Sandra tightly, pulling the taller girl's head against her
chest.  "You poor dear," she said softly, her own eyes wet with unshed
tears.  "Believe me, I have an idea of what you've been through.  I've seen
it often enough; parents being unreasonable, so high and mighty, so full of
themselves, they don't take the time to see what's actually going on with
their child.  They strut around and yell and scream, all the while making
things worse." A loud crackle of thunder sounded outside, but Mel continued
on.  "Still, there has to be hope, Sandy.  If Bianca truly loves you, she
won't let anything, not even her parents, stand in her way.  If you are
truly meant for one another, it will happen."

   "No," Sandra shook her head, sobbing even harder.  "No, it won't.  It
won't ever happen, not now.  Bianca felt torn..  between her parents... 
and me.  *SNIFF* She wanted to be with me *SNIFF* with all her heart, but
she couldn't...  couldn't because her parents would disown her...  *SNIFF*
and despite everything she LOVED them, absolutely loved her folks *SNIFF*
and it was tearing her apart...  so one day...  she left me a note on my
door.  She said...  said that she just couldn't *SNIFF* take it anymore. 
She...  she couldn't take the pain...  of being without m-m-me...  and that
she was g-g-g-gonna...  end it all..."

   Mel nodded with sympathy, understanding.  "She jumped into the river."

   Sandra nodded, unable to speak again for a long time.  Mel continued to
hold her, running fingers through her hair gently, rocking the girl in her
arms.  When she finally raised her head again, Sandy's eyes were red and
swollen, and her nose was runny, but the sharpness of her pain had been
diminished.  "The police found her body a few days later," she whispered.
"Her parents blamed me for it all, of course, said that I had forced her
into it...  that I had corrupted her.  They didn't even allow me to come to
the funeral.  And I suppose that is probably the hardest thing, that I
never got the chance to say goodbye to her.  To me, its almost as if she's
not dead, just waiting out there for me to find her again."

   Mel smiled to her softly, her own face wet with tears, and leaning
forward, she kissed Sandra gently, on the lips.

   Sandra stood there, surprised, but not stunned.  Somehow she had felt
the vibe growing between them, had known deep down that it had been leading
towards this moment, but until Mel kissed her, she hadn't known how
desperately she needed and craved her love.  She kissed the blonde back,
heavily on the lips, her body surging with need, desperate to feel
something, ANYTHING, besides the pain she had felt for the past five
months.

   She gave complete control over to Mel, who worked and caressed and
stroked Sandra's need-filled body with a practiced hand, working her
arousal into a slow, but steady boil, as she led her back into the bedroom.
Her body nearly aglow with pleasure, Sandra was only dimly aware of the
pictures hanging in the hallway and the bedroom, but the scenes she saw
were dazzling, well done, and vividly erotic.  She paused, glancing at one
that was clearly a self-portrait, showing Mel in all her nude glory. 
Sandy's arousal tripled as she glimpsed the young girl's beauty, but felt
it peak again as she turned to find Mel, already naked, lying atop the
white satin sheets of her canopies bed.  Glancing down at herself, she saw
that she, too, was no naked, without ever having noticed being stripped.

   Sliding onto the bed, feeling Mel's hands caress her face, Sandy
whispered, lovingly, "Is this a dream?  Is this really happening?" But Mel
silenced her with a finger pressed against her lips...  and then with her
own lips as she kissed her again, with passion.  Sandra's mind was alive
with sensation: the soft velvet caress of their flesh touching, the
trickling wetness she felt along her thighs, the soft musky scent of
arousal coming from them both, the soft eager panting escaping both their
lips.

   "Oh yes, yes, Mel," she whispered frantically, as she felt the girl's
wonderful fingers venturing lower, towards her nexus.  "Please, oh God,
please, love me, Mel.  Make me cum." The long slender digits sank home,
finding all the right spots as they explored her damp dark crevice, making
Sandra writhe and squirm with delight.  Her own hands thrust deeply into
Mel's dripping pussy, feeling her hips move forward in response, begging
with her body for more, more pleasure, more sensation, more, more, more! 
Mel's free hand was busily groping and squeezing her breasts, teasing her
nipples, sending sparks of pleasure before Sandra's eyes; she reciprocated
my squeezing Mel's lovely ripe apple, groping the lovely ass, even teasing
the puckering little opening between the blonde's luscious buns.

   Both girls were very near their peak, needing only a little more to send
them over the edge.  Sensing each other's needs.  Mel unclamped her lips
from Sandra's mouth and lowered them to the ripe swollen nipple of her left
breast.  Sandra gasped, as she was flung HARD into the throes of ecstasy,
thrusting two fingers deep into her lover's ass, setting her off as well.
Their passion filled cries echoed off the walls as they thrashed wildly,
cumming in unison, arching their backs as they melded into one being,
fusing in a tangle of limbs and bodies.  Just when Sandra felt the pleasure
begin to decrease ever so slightly, Mel began a vigorous round of sucking
on her breast, splintering her pleasure, sending her into multiples. 
Sandra threw her head back and howled her bliss, shaking, vibrating with
power, as she and her lover continued to soak the bed sheets with their
love.

   Several moments later Sandra came down from her high, floating gently on
a cloud of pleasure.  She thought perhaps she had dozed off, passing out
from the intensity of her experience.  Glancing around, everything seemed
hazy, as if a thick foggy mist had rolled in.  She was still on the bed,
which seemed solid enough, but everything else, the walls, the ceiling,
even the floor, seemed only half formed.  Sitting up, she looked at her
lover, and gasped.  Mel sat there, smiling at her, but physically she'd
changed.  She looked older now, perhaps older that Sandra herself, looking
nearly thirty, thirty-five.  Her long blonde hair, previously done in a
ponytail, was now darker, and elaborately coifed in a French style braid.
Her entire body seemed to glow with a soft pale light.  Afraid, enraptured,
curious, Sandra could only sit there, helplessly, as Mel crossed the few
feet separating them, and placed a soft loving kiss on her lips.

   "Who...  who ARE you?" Sandra said, recovering her voice.

   Mel smiled, a soft sad smile.  "My real name is Melpomene," she replied.
"I lived long before you were born, before the discovery of this place you
call America.  My father is Zeus, King of the Gods; I am what came to be
known as a 'Muse'." She paused for a moment, letting this all sink in. 
"Since the fall of the Greek and Roman empires, Father, and the other Gods
have been in..  I guess you could call it hibernation.  The people don't
believe in them anymore, don't worship them, and for a God, most of your
power comes from belief.  My sisters and I, however, have been more active,
roaming throughout the world, interacting directly with mortals,
influencing their lives in some small way, generally trying to make the
world a better place to live."

   Sandra shook her head.  It seemed incredible, impossible.  A Greek
Goddess?  A Muse?  Madness!  She had lost her mind.  Somewhere, she was
lying on the floor, perhaps back in her apartment, so distraught over the
loss of Bianca, that her mind had created this fantasy, this unbelievable
occurrence, to save itself from the pain.  Melpomene's gentle laughter
broke through her inner turmoil.

   "No, my sweet Sandra," she said chidingly, "you are NOT insane.  I am
completely REAL, my love, as real and as solid as you." She grasped
Sandra's hand and placed it against her breasts.  "You see?  I am real. 
And, I have known sadness within my life.  I'm called the Muse of Tragedy,
that I inspire the creative works of the forlorn, of the sad and hurting,
that my blessing, or curse, is to show a person how to use their pain in a
positive way.  My entire existence on earth has been one tragic encounter
after another."

   She sighed.  "It gets lonely, you know.  Immortality.  Several hundred
years ago, I took a female lover.  We were very happy together, and I kept
my true nature a secret from her.  But like all humans, she was mortal, and
she died.  I was heartbroken, shattered inside.  I had helped others deal
with their pains, but I had no one to help me deal with my own." A small
tear fell from her eye, but she wiped it away.  "It was then that I took up
painting.  A lot of the pictures you've seen are of her.  To get past the
loss, I had to use my own advice, and channel that pain and hurt, that raw
emotion, into something constructive.  For me, it was painting.  In your
case, it would be writing." She smiled again.  "Sandra, if you want to
truly honor Bianca's memory, then you have to get on with your life.  Let
your tragedy be an inspiration.  Write about her, about your beloved, make
her memorable in story, in prose, and share her with others.  I swear to
you, the pain will lessen in time, and soon you'll be able to dwell on the
good of your life together, not the ending."

   Tears stained Sandra's cheeks, but like Mel, she was smiling as well. 
The Muse's words had struck a chord deep within her.  For the longest time
she had been stuck in misery, focused only on the loss.  Her writing had
suffered, and she had withdrawn from life completely, becoming dead inside,
even though she still walked the earth.  The thought of using her writing
to honor Bianca opened up a whole new world to her, and suddenly, life
seemed to have meaning and purpose once more.  thankful for the advice,
extremely grateful to Mel, she leaned forward, grasping the Goddess'
ankles, and kissed her toes.  Melpomene gasped, and gigged loudly, wiggling
her toes.  Sandra looked up, smiling devilishly.

   "I had no idea that a Muse could be ticklish," she said, chuckling.  "I
only intended to show you my thanks and respect."

   Mel smiled, lifting Sandra back up level with her again.  "My sweet
Sandra, I should be thanking you.  Being with you like this, sharing this
time with you, it helped me as much as it did you.  I needed to feel loved,
and cherished again, even if for only a short time." Seeing Sandra's look
of alarm, she sighed.  "Yes, love, I can only be with you here a short
time. When you close your eyes to sleep, and awaken, I will be gone.  You
won't remember anything that happened, won't remember ME at all." Seeing
the look of hurt on her lover, she touched a hand to her face.  "Don't
worry, beloved.  You will not remember ME, but you will remember our time
together, and my words to you, the need and desire to honor Bianca with
your words.  That will remain."

   "But why?" Sandra said, frowning.  "Why do you have to leave?"

   Mel sighed.  "Because after the sadness and heartbreak I felt at the
loss of my human lover, my Father place his will on me--- that I could
never remain with a human more than a single day, that I could only touch
their lives and move on, both to spare them and me from future separation
pains." She shook her head.  "Sometimes Daddy can be such a fucking prick."

   A loud crash of thunder rolled outside, and lightning struck a nearby
tree, making them jump.  Both girls then giggled softly, the moment of
tension broken.  Sandra gazed down at Mel's soft bare feet for a moment,
then smiled wickedly.  "Well, Mel," she said slowly, grasping the woman's
slim ankle, brining it slowly to her mouth, "Since we only have a day
together, I guess we should make full use of our time.  Bianca's most
favorite thing was to have me suck on her toes, while I made love to her."
She slid her tongue along the bottom of the Goddess' foot, making her gasp
and giggle softly, eyes fluttering in pleasure.

   "Nothing would get her off quicker," she said, continuing to nibble and
suck on Mel's bare feet, "than having me suck on her pretty toes, licking
them gently, like this," she said extending her tongue deftly between the
girl's wiggling toes, making her bite her lip, "or like this," she said,
sliding her clever tongue along the curl of Mel's toes, causing her to moan
deeply, spreading her toes wide, "or, to slowly slide them into my mouth
and suck on them, hard and deep, like this," she purred, sucking on Mel's
baby toe, covering it with her saliva coated tongue, making the woman's
back arch painfully in pleasure...

   The rest of the day and night was spent exploring each other's wants and
desires.  When Sandra drifted off into peaceful slumber later that night,
Melpomene sat there staring at her, the girl's head in her lap, and wept,
kissing her lover gently on the lips.  She had come to love her dearly in
such a short time, but their time was over, decreed by her Father, Zeus. 
She was a Muse, with the purpose to inspire, to turn a person's tragedy
into triumph, to find the few grains of joy buried in a heart of sadness
and bring them to light.  As she began to fade back into the ethereal
mists, she took that to heart, finding a small joy in the fact that Sandra
would awaken, feeling whole, with a renewed joy and purpose in her life.

   ((END.))

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