"No more questions,” he whispered, and ran his finger across her lips, side to side. Then, with a final tap against them, he turned away and opened the door. Over his shoulder, he added, “When you're ready, push the button there.” He pointed to an ornate gold button beside the door. And then, he was gone. The door closed softly behind him, and she was left alone with her thoughts.
Sighing, wondering if she'd made a mistake brazening her way in, she returned to the closet. The costumes were well done, exquisite in their detail and she liked many of them, but none caught her attention. None called to her. That is, until she got to the end. Tight against the wall, a simple gown of white cotton hung from a hanger. She drew it out and knew she'd found exactly what she was looking for, only hoping it would fit her curves.
Before she slipped it on, she dropped the fur to the floor and kicked it away. Her hair needed to be done, nothing extravagant she thought as she headed for the luxurious bathroom. White marble and gold fixtures in a room that was bigger than her apartment met her when she pushed through the doors. Pulling open drawers, she found a brush she liked and several elaborate combs and barrettes from which to choose. Sweeping up her long, dark hair, she twisted it in a knot and pushed a beautifully curved gold comb through it to hold it in place. A tendril escaped the comb, curling from behind her left ear and draping over her shoulder.
"Yes, perfect,” she muttered and slid another comb in. She posed, turned to the left and then right, and thrust her naked breasts out. Chuckling, she tweaked her nipples, and gasped at how sensitive they were. Imagining how it would feel if her black guide had pinched them, her pussy responded with a pounding heat.
Dragging her hands from her breasts, she groaned. “Enough, or you'll never get out of the damn room.” She checked the drawers for make-up and wasn't surprised to find an assortment. Digging through the vials and tubes of this and that, she chose kohl eyeliner. Deftly, she outlined her eyes, then worked the liner until she had the desired effect. Next came blush and lipstick, both a deeper red than she was accustomed, but what she thought would fit the outfit she'd chosen. Absentmindedly, she wondered how the others were fairing, if the women were going to be as beautiful as she thought, the men as handsome.
Done, she went back into the main room and picked up the gown. It was cotton, but a softer, finer cotton than she'd ever worn. She wrapped it around herself, tying the shoulder so that it draped over her breasts and left her back bare to the top of her butt as well as one leg to the hip. The long, gold, braided rope, she wound around her waist then pulled up and crossed between her breasts before tossing the ends over her shoulders. They came around her again, at her waist, and she tied them loosely at her hip.
She walked over to the closet and peered inside for some kind of footwear. High-heeled sandals would be best, something that laced up her legs. She spotted boots and several pairs of stilettos but couldn't see any sandals. Her disappointment lasted only a moment. Pulling back a particularly heavy cape, she saw exactly what she wanted. Gold, delicate sandals with a heel that would make her close to six feet tall and laces up to her knees. Perfect—and best of all, they fit beautifully when she slipped her foot into them and wound the soft strips of leather up her calf.
She checked herself in the mirror and gasped. The white cotton gown was the perfect thing for her; at least she thought so. Her curves were a little more abundant than most women liked, but she'd always been well rounded and had grown used to the remarks and looks she got. Tonight, she'd decided to show it all off.
Satisfied with how she looked, she went to the entrance door and pushed the button. She waited, but not for long. She'd just settled in a chair facing one of the huge windows when she heard a bell chime. Not even enough time for her nerves to kick in—or her lust to completely die.
She got to her feet and went to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and stepped out.
Her will faded. She felt it go, trickling like sand from an hourglass.
A tiny woman dressed in a beautiful blue patterned kimono waited at the bottom, bowing when they had all stepped off the bottom step. “Would you be so kind as to follow me, please?"
She just followed the others, like cattle to the slaughter, into the dining hall. It was a huge room with high ceilings and beautifully-carved marble figures perched on tables and stands around the perimeter. Flowers of all descriptions brightened and scented the hall. The table was set, a lace cloth, fine china and crystal, silver cutlery and more flowers, roses, baby's breath, and something obscenely phallic looking.
At the far head of the table, a throne sat on its raised platform. Beside it, Syne saw a huge red velvet cushion, upon which reclined a gorgeous black man. Not just any man, he was very familiar.
Yes, it was Ares, naked and kneeling. His body was turned slightly toward the throne, but still perfectly visible to anyone who chose to look at him. And look she did. His hands were behind his neck, clasped there or held, she couldn't yet tell. His back was straight and the wide leather collar around his neck kept his chin up, but he still managed to keep his eyes downcast. With his knees spread wide and his ass firmly planted on his heels, his crotch was visible and accessible, if only she was able to move his way.
For the moment, she wasn't. And, for some reason, it didn't concern her. She eyed his genitals, smiling at the bright gold ring at the base of his cock, another one around his balls. He wasn't erect, but he was extremely well endowed.
"Ladies, gentlemen.” The voice was smooth and softly feminine, but carried across the length of the room easily. “Please take a seat and we'll begin."
As if in a dream, Syne made her way, along with the others, to the table and found a place. When she was seated she looked around, the first voluntary movement she'd been allowed to make since leaving her room. The others were as ‘controlled’ as she was. Sitting straight, they peered around, but that seemed to be all that was permitted.
A sudden noise from the doorway got her full attention. But, try as she might, she couldn't turn her head. She strained against the invisible bonds, but it didn't do a bit of good. She was held. All she could move was her head, and even that movement was restricted.
When the woman came into view, Syne could have fainted, if given the option. Tall, slender, incredibly blonde and fair, Diane, her friend and confidant, stood at the head of the table, smiling.
"I am Dione, Goddess here and your hostess.” She shifted her gaze from one to the next of her ‘guests’ and smiled when her eyes came to rest on Syne. The gown she wore left next to nothing to the imagination. Held at the neck by a band of what looked like diamonds, the white gossamer gown covered her to her toes, but revealed everything. Luscious full breasts, their nipples rouged and standing proud, formed tiny pyramids. Another band of diamonds held her waist and was tied on her left hip, the ends left to dangle.
She turned away before Syne noticed if her pussy was visible, but seeing her from the rear, she had no doubt it was. She sidled up the two steps to her throne, her buttocks like two puppies snuggling together. Turning, she stood for a long moment, as if awaiting applause, then settled into the soft cushions of the elaborately carved chair. Her hand, draped over the side, came to rest on Ares’ chest.
"Tonight, you'll each live out a fantasy, or so you've been told. That's why you came. But, in reality, it is I who will create and enjoy a fantasy.” The smile she shot toward Syne sent a chill through her.
"One of you is going to have a special treat, though; something she's always wanted but never had the guts to do.” Diane—Dione—stared straight at her as she spoke, a wicked smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “She's always wanted a plaything, a man who'll do anything she asks."
Dear God, Syne thought and cringed, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. How could her friend so blatantly tell these strangers her deepest, most secret fantasy? How did she even know about it? Shaking her head, she willed it all to stop—to be over. But, when she opened her eyes again
, Dione was still there, and the rest of the guests were watching her.
"Ah, dinner is here,” Dione said in a softer tone.
A feminine hand and arm, covered by a kimono sleeve, placed a plate in front of her. Pastries and succulent vegetables in a sauce that smelled of garlic and butter were piled high. More plates arrived, carried by other kimono-clad girls and scattered along the table. Carafes filled with different colored liqueurs arrived next, their glasses were filled and the rest left for later.
"Eat, drink, and enjoy. The masquerade has begun.” No sooner had the words left her mouth, than Syne saw the woman across from her change. Her hair, which had been mousey brown, suddenly became vibrant honey gold and appeared to be growing longer. Her breasts, which had been on the small side, plumped and were suddenly much larger, the nipples more red against the suddenly tight bodice of her slave girl outfit.
The blond-haired man beside her, who had been very nice looking to begin with, was instantly heart-stoppingly gorgeous. He'd been less than powerfully built, but that changed, his body amassing muscles enough to split the cloth covering him. He simply sat there, bewildered and naked, as his body reformed and grew.
Syne watched each of her counterparts changing, becoming more vivacious, more lusciously beautiful. None of them seemed to suffer from the alterations; no one moaned or cried out. The process was either painless or some kind of block was being used.
"Eat,” Dione repeated more sternly. “You'll all need your strength, I'm sure."
The cruel laughter that followed made Syne shudder. But her hand, as if it had a life of its own, moved to the plate in front of her. She noted that everyone else did the same. Forks rose, morsels of food pressed to mouths that opened obediently, and teeth chewed. While they ate, the changes finished, and Syne wondered what they'd done to her. She felt nothing. Her field of vision allowed her to see her arms and hands, but nothing more.
Soon enough, the meal ended, much to her relief, and her fork lay across her plate. The others quickly followed, and the same silent servers removed their plates.
Dione watched, not partaking of the meal, not that Syne could see. Ares continued to kneel beside her, his body held erect and his eyes lowered. But, that was about to end.
Tension in the air grew. Syne heard one or two of her companions fidgeting. One of them moaned very softly. Unable to see what those further down the table were experiencing, she returned her attention to those across from her, and gasped. Flushed, eyes glazed with lust, they squirmed and twisted in their chairs as if they'd suddenly grown hot.
"Syne,” the sultry voice of Dione called. “Come to me, girl. There's something special here waiting for you."
Syne's heart leaped into her throat. Rising from her chair, she turned and faced the woman whom she thought was her friend. More regal, more impressively beautiful, Dione smiled down at her and nodded. Slightly reassured, Syne squared her shoulders and moved toward the head of the table. With each step, a strange, terrifying thing happened. Her memories shifted. What she remembered of her life as a freelancer, faded.
After only a few forced paces, her mind was almost blank and her terror gone. It was hard to be afraid when there were no memories to be afraid of. Noises from the others distracted her, but she walked on, determined to reach the source of all that was happening to her. Language remained, was enhanced. She realized a new language, or an old one, crept into her mind.
When she finally stood at the bottom of the stairs, Syne was no more. The woman before her was familiar, loved, and admired.
"Dione,” she whispered, shocked as her memories flooded back—the masquerade of a year ago, her flight from the island when Ares had confessed his infidelity, again. Confused, angry, she breathed, “How...?"
Dione rose from her throne and stepped down. Holding her arms out, she pulled the shocked woman into them and held her tenderly. “Shh! It's all right. Give yourself a few minutes. It'll all come back."
The name, Mnemosyne, crept in, and with it a million memories. Words, the meaning of things and emotions, of animals and plants, she knew them all, had created them, explained them, loved them all, and now she remembered. The arms around her tightened, as if Dione could read her mind, fathom the shock and anger raging through her.
Syne, the freelancer, the woman struggling to make a living off reporting the tragedy of others, faded into a corner of her mind. She was the Goddess, the creator of words and the namer of everything known. Her year of being simply, and only, human was gone. Her life as the Goddess Mnemosyne, daughter of the sky and earth, she remembered it all—Ares’ goading, his infidelity, his tormenting, and how she'd fled the safety of the island.
Her own hands had found their way to Dione's hips, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to calm herself. A year was gone, wasted because of anger, and she vowed not to repeat it.
"Thank you,” she whispered into Dione's ear and kissed her on the neck. “Thank you.” If it hadn't been for the lovely woman in her arms, she might never have found her way back. She'd made sure she found the card, knew she'd find her way here. A debt owed, and she'd remember.
"Ares, I want him.” She straightened up and turned her gaze on the kneeling man.
He seemed to know she was watching him, and straightened himself even more. He was smart, though, and never raised his eyes. His dark skin shone, a light sheen of sweat gleaming in the brightly lit room.
"He's yours,” Dione said, and stepped back, giving her room to pass.
Mnemosyne took her time walking toward the kneeling god, enjoying the return of her memories and the power she knew was hers. Standing over him, she glared down at the god who had stolen a year of her life.
"Ares,” she snarled and smiled when his shoulders hunched. “Ares, you dog, look at me."
His head shifted, raising his eyes to look at her. The blue of the sea gazed calmly into her eyes. There was no sorrow, no plea for mercy or forgiveness there. She saw only determination and—and something else she couldn't name. Shocked, she slid her hand through his tightly crinkled hair, twisting her fingers into it, squeezing, dragging a grunt of pain from him.
"Why?” Roughly, she dragged his head back, forcing him to arch his back.
"Mnemosyne—Syne, it's my nature to wander. You knew that when we joined together. I didn't change."
Her heart sank. What he said was true, and she herself had enjoyed the attention of other men. “Yes, it's in your nature, and you haven't changed. But, you took a year from me and caused me much sorrow. You must pay."
"Willingly, if it will bring you back to me."
For a moment, she was too surprised to speak. Back? How could she possibly take him back after what he'd done? He'd bragged of his conquests, rubbed her nose into them one too many times. How could she forgive him or forget the pain he'd caused her? It was his careless disregard for her that had driven her away, forced her to flee the island.
"You must be punished,” she snarled, anger flaring. “For the evening, this night of fantasies and dreams, you'll be my dog, my beast, and be treated as one.” Her blood roared in her ears. The punishment she was devising would be harsh, painful for such a man as Ares, but if he loved her as he claimed, he'd agree.
He looked at her with a mixture of lust and confusion. “It seems you've remembered it all, my love.” He lowered his head and shuddered. “The dog. Yes, that's what I'm called by some.” Glancing back up at her, the determination was back. “I'll be your beast. A well deserved title perhaps, but one I'll gladly endure for your love."
"Not quite my dog, although that may be what I call you. My abject slave.” She stroked his head lightly, feeling him tremble at her words. A warrior, he'd balk at her proposal, but she'd give him no choice. “You'll do exactly what I ask of you, or I'll banish you from my presence."
He took a moment to reply. His muscles tensed, she watched them, then slid her hand down over his shoulders and across the top of his broad, black che
st. “Damn you, Syne,” he said in a strangled voice. “You know I have to say yes. I love you more than life. I've nearly gone crazy without you."
Triumphant, Mnemosyne smiled and reached a little lower for a tightly puckered nipple. “Damn you, Ares.” She tightened her grip slowly, rolling the tiny black nubbin between fingers and thumb, until he squirmed. “Not the nicest thing for a slave to call his mistress, is it?” She twisted her hand.
He grunted, but that was the only sign of his acknowledging the pain. “No, it's not."
"Apologize.” She wrenched her hand the opposite way, dragging another grunt from him.
"Mnemosyne, I'm sorry. I'll try very hard to show proper respect for you in future."
Releasing her hold, Mnemosyne turned and faced Dione. “Thank you, my friend. You've given me my life back. I'll never forget the debt I owe you.” She bowed low and smiled when she stood tall again; Dione was in front of her.
"You're welcome, Mnemosyne. I'm glad you're with us again.” She nodded down at Ares, and added, “I'm not so sure he will be by the time you're finished with him, though.” Her laughter was contagious and soon both were holding onto the other, howling with glee.
"You may be right, my friend; but he'll remember, that's for sure,” Mnemosyne managed. “We'll be leaving you now. Enjoy your masquerade; I'm sure the others will."
Unwinding a strand of gold belting from her waist, she bent and looped it around Ares’ genitals. He'll heel me well, she thought, and turned toward the door. Naked men and women, who thought they were there to party and play out their own fantasies, awaited the pleasure of Dione. They knelt, beautifully, exposed and eager for the revels to begin.
Reaching the door, Mnemosyne heard the lovely goddess’ first command of the evening, “Reach to your right and excite the person next to you. I want to see what you have to offer."
Ares heeled her, on his hands and knees. Closing the door behind her, she whirled and thought of her favorite rooms in her palace.
Coming Together: At Last, Volume Two Page 11