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From: Night Writer <night_writer99@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Persephone in Winter - Chapter 10 (Wife, cheat?, MDom, Fsub) Night Writer
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Date: Sun, 08 Apr 2007 10:10:03 -0400
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                         Persephone in Winter
                            by Night Writer


                              Chapter 10


The shock that woke him was as though he had been dropped into the
car seat from a great height. When he opened his eyes, he found
himself strangely energized, in spite of the lucid details of his
dream. Why had he let this man have his wife, over and over? Few
husbands would have been so accommodating, so weak in the face of a
wife's professed sexual encounters. How could he have brought her
here a second time? Suddenly he knew what had to be done.

Neither the manicured lawn nor the marble steps under his feet
weakened his resolve. He would storm this castle, confront its master,
and take his wife from this place once and for all. No longer would he
wait for the spoils of another man like a timid peasant resigned to
gathering table scraps for sustenance.

It was more anger and desperation than epiphany that drove him through
the heavy front door that opened easily against his weight. Once
inside, the opulence of the house's interior was lost on him as he
blindly invaded room after room, ready to claim his wife at the instant
he caught sight of her. Pausing at the sweeping stairs leading to the
second story, he looked up into the darkness, listening for the
slightest whisper, a single footstep, any clue that might lead him to
his first and final stand against this devil, this puppet-master whose
strings held his wife in an endless dance of submission.

Silence. The eerie emptiness of the house began to eat away at the
confidence that had taken so long to muster, as though his wife's lover
may even possess the power to take her from this world for a time, or
make her invisible to anyone who might intrude.

He pressed forward, past the thickly carpeted stairs, then under the
open balcony twenty feet over his head. The door before him was
different then the others. Wider, made of solid hand-rubbed walnut,
its very character carried a warning of what may lie inside.
Imagining the overwhelming strength necessary to force it open, he
placed his hand on the cold, black, iron latch, pressed downward,
and felt the door swing silently inward.

Elyse hung from the scaffold, her body drenched with sweat, her legs
and belly still convulsing as Simon suddenly robbed her of her orgasm.
She felt his cock leave her, withdrawing as quickly as it had entered
her, and she struggled to capture it again, thrusting her narrow hips
at him in a futile effort to trap the hard, golden rod of flesh between
her legs, to somehow will the plump cockhead back inside her hungry
cunt.

In her mind's eye, the line of men before her advanced, each of them
ready to take her, each somehow promising her a release of equal
intensity. She saw them as bare-chested satyrs, erections wagging
eagerly in the air, wet with a layer of glistening pre-cum from the
long wait. The shifting shadows of the flickering fire obscured their
faces, but displayed every muscle and sinew of their bodies, each
slightly different, but perfect in every physical way a man's body
could be imagined.

She moaned quietly as her vision became more real to her, now narrated
by her own inner voice. 'All those men - all those perfect men - all 
of them for me. So many of them - big, hard, throbbing - so much sex - 
all for me - for me - all for me...'

Her body burned for them. Every nerve screamed for their touch. If only
the bonds about her wrists would pull tighter, raise her off the floor,
suspend her before them, her legs helplessly open, inviting invasion.
She would let every last one of them have her to find what she needed,
to be fucked brutally by the largest and most powerful of them, taking
her body relentlessly, without feeling, fueled only by instinct-driven
lust.

Now and then, part of a face would appear - an eye, a nose, full lips,
a square jaw - but just as it began to resemble a man who was known to
her, it vanished again in shadow, teasing her with its familiarity,
promising her nothing but sex, the jutting cock always in full view.

Then, for an instant, she saw Steven's face, first in shadow, then in
the shifting ambers and golds of the firelight. She blinked, trying to
focus, at first sure that his face was a vision like all the others.
But the others were gone now, chased away by returning reality,
shrinking and fading into the darkness.

Steven stood just inside the heavy door, eyes adjusting to the dim
light, staring in disbelief at the wooden scaffold where Elyse hung by
her wrists, her naked body gleaming with sweat, writhing and moaning
beside her master. Simon stood close to her, his lean, muscular torso
ablaze with light against the black depths of the room. He was naked as
well, his cock still brutally hard, jutting proudly upward, glistening
with her juices.

Elyse cried out, suddenly limp against her restraints, shrinking back
in horror, now certain that it was truly Steven's eyes that were fixed
on her. Simon turned toward Steven in a flash, his eyes red burning
embers, piercing Steven with lances of anger that paralyzed him. Steven
froze, overwhelmed by the impossible scene upon the darkened stage.
Like some bizarre Faustian nightmare played out before him, Elyse and
Simon looked down at him, her Persephone shamed by his presence, his
Hades enraged by it. Until that moment, Steven had never
pictured them together; his mind wouldn't allow it. In the past it had
been off-limits, a place where he refused to let his imagination
wander. The reality of it robbed him of every trace of confidence and
resolve. Steven broke free of Simon's stare, turned away, and fled.

The walls of the hallway, the grand stairway and balcony overhead, the
very substance of the mansion melted away as Steven made his escape. He
ran blindly, allowing instinct to guide him through the wide doors and
over the brilliantly lit portico, until he closed his hand around the
handle of the car door, opened it and dropped into the seat. The engine
started instantly, and before he could regain his senses, the car was
speeding along the winding drive, through the open black gate, and into
the night.

Steven drove recklessly through the quiet neighborhood, following
landmarks that had led them to the house, his mind now more machine
than mortal. It had mapped a maze, and was now un-mapping it,
meticulously calculating distances and turns, mathematically  guiding
him home, away from his horrors. But at the same time, before his eyes,
he saw them, frozen in time, looking down at him from their stage,
their expressions unmistakable. Now, in his mind, their looks were
accusing, looks one gave a trespasser, an interloper into one's private
domain. Elyse's words echoed in his head, an anguished wail that
repeated, over and over. "Oh God, Steven - No! No, Steven, No! No!
Noooo!" He had thought the meaning all to clear, but they were still
her words, his Elyse, his love.

As Steven turned from the maze of cul-de-sacs onto the main highway,
his cell phone came alive with its persistent, no-nonsense warble. He
retrieved it and glanced at the caller's name. It was Elyse.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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