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                         Persephone in Winter
                            by Night Writer


                               Chapter 4


"If only others could see you as I do."

He paced slowly as he spoke, eyes feasting on white flesh against the
crimson sheets under her.  The bed, a heavy four-poster with a canopy
frame, was positioned at the very center of the room.  At first sight
it was an imposing structure, a fusion of dark carved woods and
burnished metal in an old-world Mediterranean style.  As he circled it,
he studied her from every angle. Her thin wrists were stretched above
her head, bound by two feet of cord secured to a grille of metal bars
at the headboard.  A tangle of brown hair framed her face, one eye
hidden behind sweat-soaked strands that clung to her forehead andcheek.  
Her open lips waited, red and full, poised, ready at the next
instant to beg him to finish her.

'Such wanton elegance,' he mused.  'Delicate shoulders carved from
the purest alabaster...white breasts firm enough to mimic stone, yet
soft enough to allow cherry-red nipples to quiver with each
breath...the flat belly, showing a hint of muscle beneath it, as though
carved by a master sculptor to compliment the sleek lines of her long
waist...legs, white as glistening ivory, chiseled and slim, a thin
layer of satin drawn tightly over stone cut and polished by hands of
passion and grace.'

He could almost understand how a husband might prefer sharing such a
treasure to losing her.

Small lamps mounted on the inside of each corner of the canopy bathed
her body in blue-white light.  The rest of the room was dark, and the
bright light blinded her to his progress and exact position.  Only
during the few moments when he passed the foot of the bed could she be
sure he remained in the room with her, his crisp, white shirt and
golden cock emerging from the shadows just long enough to rewet her
appetite for him.

Minutes later, he appeared beside her at the edge of the bed.  He was
naked, and the sudden sight of him sent a shudder of expectation
through her.  He held a small silver vial, just slightly taller than a
thimble.  Within it rested a thin needle topped with a single black
pearl that seemed to hover above the lip of the container in the
brilliant light.  As he withdrew it, a drop of clear liquid fell from
the sharp tip back into the waiting pool at the bottom of the miniature
reservoir.

She shifted away from him as he brought the needle closer.

"Are you afraid?"

Her eyes told him before she could speak. "Yes," she whispered.

"I could untie you, set you free.  Your husband is waiting."

She shook her head without hesitation, as if to chase away any chance
of retreat.  "No!" - another whisper, but one more forceful.

The tip of the needle arrived at her breast, stopping at the edge of
the bright pink areola.  With a quick stabbing motion, he tapped the
point repeatedly over the sensitive skin. She gasped, then began to
moan quietly as the needle danced over the engorged button of flesh.
The pressure was never enough to draw blood, but sufficient to deliver
minute quantities of the drug just below the surface of the tender
nipple.  He returned the needle to the shining vial, wetting the tip
again and again, until both nipples lay wet and glistening in the harsh
light.

He stopped, watching the circles surrounding her nipples darken to an
angry red.  She gasped as the tickle of the needle turned to burning
twinges, finally subsiding to a constant, mild irritation that made her
squirm and pull against her bonds.

And then he was gone.  The darkness surrounding the bed simply
swallowed him.  She called out to him, begging him to return, to
extinguish the fire that had started at her breasts and now crawled
methodically through her, seizing her cunt with raging urgency.  Her
cries echoed through the room, unanswered.  She cried out louder, slim
legs now shifting to one side, then the other in a futile attempt at
relief or freedom.  The cord around her wrists tightened and held.
Helpless and alone under the intense light, she felt as though she
might suffocate in it's heat, a heat that suddenly seemed to melt her
womb, sending it flowing between her legs like a river of molten lead.

Suddenly, he was there, kneeling on the bed, naked, between her
restless thighs.  He watched her with piercing eyes, his golden chest
shining, his erection thicker and harder than she had ever remembered
it.  Multicolored spikes of light surrounded him, flickering and
wavering as they stretched from his bronzed skin into the shadows of
the darkened room.  His voice seemed distant and out of sync with the
words that formed on his lips.
"My, my.  Where has she gone?  Mommy and Daddy's good little girl - a
husband's faithful and loving wife - the proud day-virgin and reluctant
concubine.  What would they say if they could see your hungry little
cunt yawning for my cock?  What words could you possibly use to make
them understand?"

"Please, Simon...I'm begging you..."

"Your answer is the price for my company tonight - and ultimately, the
price for coaxing my cock inside you."

"Simon...I don't care...none of it matters...none of it..."

Her slim hips rose off the bed as she spoke, pumping uncontrollably in
a futile attempt to somehow capture the swollen purple head that jutted
and bobbed, still impossibly far away.

"Ahh, finally, the truth.  None of it matters - it's empty baggage, a
burden you needn't bear.  Here, to be free of it is a simple choice -
your choice - no one else's.

He moved closer, finally edging the head of his cock just inside her.
He waited until her cunt tightened around it, then went deeper, filling
her slowly with inch after inch of rigid flesh.  Each time with him was
as if she was taken by a new lover; the unyielding girth of his sex
stretching her, then the solid presence filling her belly, possessing
her more completely than any man ever had, or quite possibly ever
would.  It took an entire minute for him to bury himself in her.  She
wound her legs around his waist, her torso drawn tight between bound
wrists and the small of his arched back.  He sank the last inch into
her and stopped, pinning her to the bed.  Her eyes fluttered and
closed.  Her lips formed a small, satisfied smile.  She had taken all
of him - from the hard, blunt tip nestled snugly against her cervix, to
the thick, flaring root that ground against her as his hips pressed
into her in small, firm circles under his body's weight.

She whimpered when he pulled out suddenly, surprised by the emptiness
in her belly.  She opened her eyes again, squinting in the bright
light.  He knelt between her legs, his lean stomach and broad chest
gleaming with sweat.  The aura that surrounded him burned with shifting
color, now pulsing violently with vibrant reds and glowing violets.
His penis seemed immense as it jutted in the air over her, growing
longer and thicker as though reflected in a funhouse mirror.  The room
was spinning.  She closed her eyes.  The bed seemed to fall away,
leaving her floating above it, weightless and calm.

He was turning her, rolling her onto her belly.  His hands were cool,
his grasp firm against her naked thighs.  She drew her knees under her,
offering her ass to him.  What she needed came quickly - his strong
hands spreading her, then the hot, blunt presence against the entrance,
pressing forward slowly, boring into her, deep enough to awaken flesh
untouched by any other.  The sensation of the cord about her wrists,
the cool sheet against her face, the sting of the fullness invading
her, all melted into the single essence of what she had become.  No
longer wife, nor woman, nor even flesh - only need and desire,
desperate to be possessed, to be taken by hands that would reduce her
to nothing, a zero, dissolving her demons in a sudden rush of Simon's
scalding sperm as it bathed her bowels.

The skillful caress of his fingers between her legs sent her into a
welcome abyss, falling and floating at the same time through explosions
of warmth and color, her own cries echoing in the distance as though
they were the urgent calls of some primitive wild animal.  Then the
darkness arrived, a luscious cradle that closed in around her, sucking
away her flesh with a delicious, persistent embrace that slowly
consumed her until only the lush fullness deep in her belly remained.
Finally it too faded, the encroaching blackness stealing even the
nothingness she had become, until it swallowed everything that
remained.


                                  ***


The car had become a prison for him.  An hour passed, then two, and
finally a third.  He should do something - go in after her, confront
the man that took her inside, insist she return with him to their own
home, to their own bed.  Why had he allowed this in the first place?
What kind of man gives his wife to a stranger, and then waits for him
to finish with her?  Her face haunted him, so child-like when they met,
and even now, years later, it still cheated the passage of time.  She
remained an innocent Lolita with the body of a mature, ripe woman.  He
knew men desired her.  He saw them look, listened to their suggestive
banter at parties, cloaked in the feeblest attempts at platonic intent.
But she had never given them the slightest satisfaction of a knowing
reply.  She would simply take his hand, or pull his arm closer around
her slim waist, as if to let him know she was his and his alone.

The temptation to go to her was overwhelming, so much so that twice he
left the car.  The first time he was able to do little more than circle
the car, then stand by the open door, his eyes searching the tall
windows for any trace of movement.  The second time he could go no
farther than halfway to the marble steps before retreating, all the
while remembering her soft pleading just before she went inside.  Now
he sat staring at his hands on the wheel, weary from questions he
couldn't answer, needing her next to him more than he ever had.

Then she was running toward him, her body glowing in the light that
still bathed the house.  The simple white nightshirt rose over her
thighs as she ran. Bare legs and feet flashed, gracefully carrying her
forward, like an angel gliding through the night.  She snuggled next to
him in the car, an arm around his neck, a hand placed peacefully on
his chest.  She nuzzled his neck, her damp hair cool and fragrant
against his skin.

"Mmmmm - take me home?"

She was asleep within minutes.  He carried her from the car to their
bed. She moved close to him, pressing her body against his, a contented
smile now fixed to her innocent face.  After letting some time pass, he
placed a hand on her breast, moving a finger over her hardening nipple.
She sighed, uttered something soft and unintelligible in her sleep,
then turned from him and sighed again one last time.  He lay beside her
as the hours passed, never sleeping, her gentle breathing filling him
with both fear and desire until dawn.

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