by Alyson Belle
We went in through the side door of his little place. Back when I was younger, I used to stay over in his family house all the time; we'd sleep in their sitting room together, but once we were old enough, we started spending our nights apart. This was just like old times, but that nostalgia ground to a halt when I saw he only had one cot.
“I guess I’ll take the floor,” I said, clambering down from his back. “You still have one of your family’s old sleeping rolls?”
Mal laughed, shaking his head. “If you’re already sore and exhausted from the newness of your body, then you need the bed more than I do. You take the cot; I’ll take the bedroll and the floor.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, hands on my curved hips. If he thought I was going to go soft just because I had less muscle and more fat now, he had another thing coming.
Mal just fixed me with a patient look. “You’re my guest. I insist.”
“Huh,” I said. “You’re a better host than I am. If a girl insists on spending the night, I usually make her sleep on the furs by the fire.”
Mal cocked an eyebrow at my joke. “You’re lucky that none of them slit your throat then.”
I laughed. “I suppose so. Thanks, I guess.”
He shrugged, giving me an impish look and disappeared into the door that led to the main house, most likely to get that bedroll. I headed towards his cot and slid under his light covers.
Almost instantly Mal’s scent flooded my nose, sharp and intense. How had I never noticed it before? It was heady, like laurel and summer, and the familiarity of it filled me with comfort. It filled with me with more than comfort, actually, as once again my body shuddered with a sensation that I could almost place. I would have called it lust if I hadn’t known better.
I heard him return, but my eyelids were already getting heavy. Technically, I hadn’t slept in a full day, back before I had died and all this began. Already, I could feel that my new body was sore and aching for a good rest. Mal murmured good night to me, and I mumbled something back that I wasn’t quite sure was coherent. Then I felt myself drift off into sleep for my first night as a woman.
Chapter 4
Somehow, I was in a line. A seemingly poor man was in front of me, his clothing in rags. I could see the dirt and holes bored into his shirt, and his pants were jagged and worn. I peeked past him looking down the line and instantly felt horror creep into me.
By some means, I had returned to the River Styx and was in line to be granted passage into the Underworld. I looked around frantically, trying to find some way out and away, but there was nothing but cave walls and people behind me. It seemed like an endless sea, and I quickly realized there was nowhere I could go.
Maybe Zeus had found me again in my sleep, and I had slipped away in my slumber. It was hard to believe that Zeus had been so kind to a thief who had stolen from him, but I couldn’t think of any other way I had ended up back there. I had only hoped that Mal hadn’t been harmed and that Aphrodite was not getting too much trouble for trying to save me.
Despite quickly coming to terms with my death, with every step the line moved, my anxiety grew. My heart thumped loudly, and I could barely hear the conversation up ahead over it. I had to flex my muscles to keep my hands from shaking. That’s when I realized I was no longer a woman. My body was that of a man again, and I was wearing the same loincloth as when I had climbed Mount Olympus. It was as if the whole memory of Aphrodite had never happened. But how could that be? Maybe it had all been a dream. But it had felt so real!
I looked down at my slightly tanned skin and reached up, feeling my short, dark hair in disbelief. It had to be true. I’d died, and Aphrodite had not come to my rescue. I had somehow dreamed it all, and now I was going to pass into the underworld.
The line was moving quickly, and in what felt like minutes, I stood before Charon, the ferryman of the river, and he extended a gaunt hand from beneath his swirling robes.
“Coin.”
“Excuse me?” I was a bit shocked and disoriented.
“Do you wish for passage into the underworld?” Charon’s voice was low; his words were blunt.
“I don’t believe I have a choice.”
“You could stay here watching the line for all eternity.”
“Well that seems boring," I said.
“Then, I’m going to need a coin.”
It was then that I remembered. To gain passage to the underworld, I needed a specific coin, only given to the dead and place on or in their mouths before burial. I used my fingers to search my mouth, and on the roof of my mouth, I found a coin. How the hell did that get there and how had it not fallen all the times I spoke?
I didn’t question it and handed it over to Charon who ushered me into his boat. I sat near the poor man who had been in front of me in line, and it happened to be the last seat on the boat.
“I will return.”
Charon climbed into the boat with all his passengers and used a giant paddle to push it off from the shore. No one spoke a word as we drifted across the river. Some looked down at the ground; others stared out onto the river with solemn eyes. Not only do the living grieve death, I realized, but the dead also grieve their passing as well.
I decided to join those glancing out onto the river, and I found we were coming upon the fork. It was said that in Hades, there were four rivers in which the spirits of the dead were sentenced. No one knew where they would end up until Charon himself threw them overboard into its depths.
There was Acheron, the river of pain, of which one would continuously relive how they died, doomed to an eternity of repeated death for their sins. Lethe was the river of forgetfulness, in which those who drowned would slowly forget the memories of their past life. Everything would slip away slowly until they couldn’t remember their names, who they were, what happened to them, or how they got there. All they would know was that river.
Phlegethon was the river of fire and got its name from not being a body of water at all, but a sea of flames. I could see its embers licking the water of the Styx as we ventured closer to it. That was usually the first stop for Charon because his boat could not venture into it. He would throw whoever was destined to burn endlessly for eternity. True to the stories I had heard as a child, the boat inched closer to the flames and I could feel their heat upon my skin. Charon paused the boat within inches of the embers and threw about a quarter of the passengers into it. Some struggled, and some screamed. Others took their punishment without words. However, once their bodies were thrown into Phlegethon, all we could hear was the sear of their flesh and then nothing. The smell of burnt flesh wafted through the boat.
There was a reason that the three rivers were quiet, and I could hear it now that I could see the bodies floating in it. To the right of Phlegethon was the final river, Cocytus, the river of wailing. Those dumped there would experience the screams of all the victims who were doomed to the other three fates. Those in the other three rivers suffered their punishments in silence. They would speak and scream, only to hear nothing because their voices would be projected to Cocytus. The punishment was saved for those who had harmed multiple people in their lives and experienced regret. They were doomed to experience that guilt for all of eternity. That was the final stop on the boat, so Charon turned left instead, heading to Acheron.
When we were floating amongst its waters, I looked down into its depths, and I could see people reliving their deaths. Some had been stabbed, and I saw their bodies jerk and stall from contact with the blade, then fall limp, only to rise again in the water and repeat the same actions. It was a horrifying thing to watch, and I felt terrible for those sentenced to it as I watched Charon throw them into its depths. Somehow the silence of it all made it exponentially worse.
Lethe was the next stop and had always been considered the least severe punishment. I knew I would pay in some way for stealing Zeus’ crown. However, as it was the only crime I had committed, I assumed I would end up in Lethe. Thinking of forgetting Mal was th
e hardest thing to come to terms with. But I knew he would remember me enough for the both of us.
However, just before turning to leave, Charon approached me. He grabbed me tightly and securely and dangled me above the water.
“Wait! There must be some misunderstanding! I shouldn’t be—”
My mouth filled with water, and I immediately held my breath, trying to swim to the surface, but it was almost as if it had turned to glass. I could make out Charon peering over his boat with an evil smirk as I watched his vessel sail away.
A shockwave shot through me, knocking the breath out of my lungs, and I had a sharp intake of breath. I realized I could breathe perfectly fine under the water, or at least I could if electricity wasn’t running through me. I felt shock after shock, flashbacks of the night I was struck crashing into me with each hit. I tried to scream, but my voice was gone, sent away to Cocytus. I clutched my throat as another jolt of pain erupted through my body.
“Ahhh!”
“Lucia?! Are you okay? Wake up!” Mal was shaking me. A worried expression colored his face. He looked concerned as I jerked away from him. His touch had sent electricity through my body that threw me off for a moment. It was just a dream, and I'd been right in the beginning. I looked down at my dainty, pale fingers and realized I was still a woman. So, I had indeed met Aphrodite, and she had saved me from Charon. I had no doubt that had she not removed me from the underworld, what I had dreamed would have been my fate.
“I’m sorry, Mal. I had an awful dream. I was back in the underworld, and Charon threw me into the river of pain. I was being struck by lightning repeatedly, but there was no lightning, and I couldn’t scream. Oh, Mal! It was so terrible! Do you think that could have been my fate had I not been saved?”
The female body I had been forced into seemed to have affected my emotions as well, because tears pooled in my eyes until I was sobbing on Mal’s shoulder, who was holding me and rubbing my back, trying to comfort me.
“It’s okay, Lucia. You’re not there; you’re here. You’re going to be fine.”
“But what if that awaits me when I return to the underworld? Surely, I won’t appear as a woman, since my spirit is a man. Charon will immediately recognize me as the man who stole Zeus’ crown!”
“Shhhh. You shouldn’t concern yourself with such morbid thoughts. You are not dying any time soon. Zeus will not find you; Aphrodite made sure of it by turning you into this gorgeous woman.” Mal pulled away from holding me to gaze into my tear-streaked face.
“You…You think I’m gorgeous?” I sniffled, trying to wipe away the waterfalls that poured from my eyes.
“Of course you’d only focus on that part.” Mal rolled his eyes. But unlike all the other times I was vain and wanted the compliment, I wasn’t joking around. I gazed at him with a longing expression, and he sighed.
“Yes, she turned you into the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.” Mal placed one of his hands on the side of my cheek, and my face practically melted into a puddle in his palm. I closed my eyes and smiled, nuzzling against his hand.
And then I felt those soft, warm lips from earlier brushing against my own.
I opened my eyes only to see his closed. I thought about breaking the kiss, telling him I was still a guy, and that this wasn’t right. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. As much as my mind protested, my body was responding to him, and my lips were shaping against his eager kisses. He cradled my body in his arms, and I was mush. My protesting thoughts quickly gave up as his fingertips caressed my shoulder, raising goosebumps.
“Is this all right?” he asked suddenly. “I just… you’re so beautiful, and…”
“Shh,” I urged, fighting against myself. I hadn’t realized just how badly I wanted him until I’d been wrapped up in his arms. My new body wanted him even if my mind found it strange. “Shut up. Don’t stop.”
His tongue glided against my lips, asking for entrance. A small corner of my mind tried to say no, but my mouth parted anyway. His tongue explored me with reckless abandon, tasting me for the first time. I experimentally nuzzled my tongue against his and was amused to find the flavor of the spanakopita we had for dinner. There was a hidden taste as well which I figured was his natural taste. Paired together, it was delicious, and I felt that I could kiss him all day.
But he seemed to have other things in mind when he undid the belt to my dress.
Again, I almost protested, but I had been trying to get out of the uncomfortable dress since I had become a woman, so I didn’t mind so much that he took it off. I was more worried about what would happen afterward.
The dress had already bunched at my waist, so Mal made quick work of it, breaking the kiss to lift it over my head, revealing my naked breasts to us both for the first time. My eyes widened. For the ample-sized breasts Aphrodite had blessed me with, they sat up quite nicely. I was pleasantly surprised, and Mal seemed to be downright thrilled. He practically drooled at the reveal, but before I could make a witty joke about him staring at them, his hands were on them. They bounced slightly with his touch.
He began to massage my breasts in his warm palms, thumbing my nipples, and I heard the first moan escape my lips. I instantly hated how womanly it sounded, but I was sure it would have been a huge turn off to hear a manly moan instead. I pressed my breasts into his hands, wanting more of his touch. His lips were on my neck, planting supple kisses and making my skin tingle with need.
Everything was so heightened with my new body, and I wondered if women always felt like this. Just a simple touch seemed to have me ready to full on combust in his arms. It was so intense and not something I was used to, but I liked it. The air was thick with desire, and every time I thought I had a protest about something, he would kiss or caress it away, leaving my mind empty of anything but the longing for more.
My eyes snapped open as his fingers found my warm center and rubbed the nub he found there. His began to work at the warm wetness between my legs, and soon the wetness below had grown so much I felt like a river was flowing between them. I closed them suddenly, feeling embarrassed.
“What is it?”
“What’s going on down there?” My voice sounded more panicked than I wanted it to. I was only curious.
“It's the honey that women make to prepare themselves for men. I’m sure women have gotten drenched for you before,” Mal spoke between kisses.
“Of course they have!” I exclaimed, slapping his shoulder playfully. I felt foolish. I should have realized that was what was happening, but I’d never realized how wet it would make me feel.
“I’m just glad your body is responding to me well.” The way he said those words formed a pool of desire deep within my core. He began worshipping my pleasure bud again, and I basked in the amazing feeling that was washing over my body. I felt him slip a thick finger into me, which was such an odd sensation at first, but an even louder moan escaped my lips. I could feel his finger wriggling around inside, exploring the walls of my canal. Every time he touched something new, a new wave of pleasure crashed through my body. My moans became more frequent as he added another finger, which seemed tight and uncomfortable at first, but my body seemed to conform to it easily after only a moment. It was incredible to feel my body responding to him so quickly.
His mouth was making love to my nipples, his tongue swirling all around the perky buttons. I was surprised by how experienced he was. I knew he'd had many women, but of course, I had never been there to see his work. He knew what he was doing.
He alternated sides, and I soon felt my hips moving along with the motions of his fingers. I wanted more. It wasn’t enough, but I thought it would be odd for me to ask.
Luckily, I didn’t have to. Mal couldn’t seem to wait any longer either. He removed his loincloth from where he sat on the side of the cot and them climbed on top of me, settling over my body.
We were both panting from need, and I could feel the firmness of his manhood against my mound. He positioned himself at my entrance.
“This may hurt a bit, but I have readied you as much as I can, and I will do my best to ease in as painlessly as possible.”
I nodded, bracing for the pain, but I was also surprisingly eager. Mal had the same thoughts as I did. If Aphrodite had made me into a new woman and it was my first time making love with a man, it would not be an easy time at first. I had been many women’s first before, and they seemed to feel some discomfort initially… but always seemed to push through to pleasure. I was eager to find my way to the pleasure.
Mal leaned over and captured my lips in a passionate kiss, and I groaned as I felt him enter me. It was uncomfortable at first just as I’d expected, but he filled me completely, and it was soon overwhelming. Tears stung at my eyes, but it was not nearly as painful as I had feared. He began to move slowly, his mouth still on mine, kissing away my pain.
The discomfort dissipated within breaths as I could feel his full length sliding in and out of me. My hands intertwined in his hair, and I bucked my hips into him, giving him a sign that he could move more freely. My walls conformed to him, and then the pain was gone, so I decided I wanted the full experience.
I wanted to see what he had.
He seemed to understand my motion, and his pace quickened slightly. I moved my hips along with him, and I was glad the cot wasn’t creaky, even though I was sure Mal’s father wouldn’t mind. He was always encouraging Mal to invite women to his bed.