Joanna Wylde - Dancing With Dionysus

Her mouth enveloped him, pulling him down into her throat. She swallowed, and he shuddered at the feel of her flesh surrounding him. He was rock hard now.

He could feel his balls tightening in anticipation. She pulled at them again, the sensation exquisite and painful all at once.

Abruptly she was pulling away from him, her mouth sliding back up his length so slowly he thought he would scream. She pulled away from him entirely and giggled.

"You seem to have recovered your strength, my Lord," she said flirtatiously.

Instantly, Sabiniano's arousal flagged, and he sighed. He didn't want to be reminded that this was simply one more nymph…

"Don't talk," he said harshly. "I don't want to hear your voice."

"Playing games, my Lord?" she asked archly. "I like games. Who am I supposed to be?"

"Don't worry about that," he replied tightly. "Either continue or leave, but don't speak again."

She gave another laugh, and he knew his unusual request would soon be the talk of the island. They feared him, structured their lives around his wishes.

Yet anything he did was fuel for their gossip.

Her mouth closed over him once more, and he pictured the human again. As the nymph's mouth moved over his erection, her nimble fingers playing with his balls and massaging him, he tried to imagine how the human would have looked doing the same thing. For the thousandth time, he regretted not getting a better look at her. It had been dark, and the god's madness hadn't left him with much interest in getting to know the succulent morsel he'd found spying on his people.

He'd simply seen her tight, round little ass poking out from the underbrush and he'd wanted to thrust himself into her body. He had smelled her fear, and her virginity had waved before him like a red flag. He'd known she would be tight and hot around him. She would be afraid, but then the god's madness would have overtaken her as well, and they would have rolled through the brush and clawed at each other like wild animals. Every scratch, every orgasm, would send them screaming their pleasure for Dionysus' ears, and the night would have grown heavy with their power…

The nymph was moving faster and faster. Her mouth sucked Sabiniano down into a dark spiral, until he felt like screaming. What if he and his little human had done this? He could imagine her small, soft mouth. She wouldn't be as skilled as the nymph; she'd never had practice. But the god's madness would have made up for her inexperience with enthusiasm. Sabiniano would have spurted into her small body like a fountain, perhaps getting a child on her.

He imagined her belly swollen with his child, and a wave of frustrated anger rushed through him. Such children, conceived during the god's festival, were precious in Dionysus' eyes. Her death had cost Sabiniano more than pleasure, he thought savagely. In killing herself, she denied them their child.

The pressure building in his groin was growing almost unbearable. It wound tight within him, a dark mixture of anger and desire. He forced himself to lie still beneath the nymph's touch, willing himself to maintain control. He wanted to sit up, roll her beneath him and fuck her until she screamed. No. He wanted to fuck his human untilshe screamed. She was gone, and it was never going to happen.

He was getting close. He could feel his release almost upon him, and he silently willed the nymph to move faster. Her mouth and fingers were flying over him. He could feel his muscles tensing, to the point that he knew would be sore when it was over, but he didn't care. He simply clenched his fists against the bedclothes, and waited for it to wash over him.

Just as he was about to come, the traitorous nymph pulled away. Her fingers wrapped about his testicles like iron cuffs. He was left hanging, mind and body screaming for release. She laughed, and then spoke.

"I really think you should tell me what game we're playing, Lord Sabiniano,"

she said, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I don't think I should have to be doing all the work and not even know what's going on…It really isn't fair."

He roared to life, pressed beyond his endurance by her taunting. Ignoring the shaft of pain it caused him, he ripped her hands away from his body and threw her beneath him on the bed. She grunted in satisfaction, quickly wrapped her legs up around his waist and pulled him down into her body. His cock, hard as one of the stone pillars surrounding the temple, pushed into her without preparation. She was wet and slick, more than ready for his touch.

As soon as he ripped into her, she gave a howl of satisfaction and raked her fingers down his back. Around him he could feel the god's energy building, the dark passion of a deity devoted to fucking, drinking and death. He slammed into her body, reveling in her cunt's tight embrace. She screeched, then reached up and pulled his body down onto hers. He thought she meant to kiss him, and he bared his teeth in rejection. Instead, she laughed wildly, and sank her teeth into his shoulder. It was not a gentle bite, and pain whipped through his body. The twin lusts for sex and violence overwhelmed him and he lost control what little control he had left.

He pounded into her body, shaking the bed. For all he knew, he was shaking the temple. The idea of the stone pillars and walls falling down around them as they fucked made him wild with destructive joy. For that second, hewas Dionysus; destroyer, creator, god of pain and pleasure…birth and death. It was too much, and in a rush of agonizing joy he released his seed into the nymph's body, shuddering with the intensity of his release.

She screamed beneath him, and he could feel her body spasming around his as she orgasmed again and again. Hot blood gushed from the wound in his shoulder, splashing across her body as she came. He shuddered, feeling his entire body grow shaky with the aftermath of his release, and he collapsed on top of her.

They panted, exhausted.

He lay there for several minutes, hearing the rushing sound of his own blood in his ears, when a new sound intruded. A slow, steady clapping…In horror, he rolled over to see his Lord and father standing at the foot of his bed, his face filled with satisfaction and pride. The dark god wore only a light tunic, with a delicate golden chain draped across the crook of his arm.

"Sabiniano, you are truly the son of my heart as well as my body," Dionysus said, his voice dark and languid. He smiled at the nymph, who was staring in shock. In sudden realization, she scrambled off the bed and dropped to her knees before the god. Her long hair trailed across her body, mixed with spatters of Sabiniano's blood. Her eyes were glassy as she drank Dionysus'

presence with hunger and awe.

"This one looks talented," Dionysus said. "Do you mind if I borrow her for a while?"

Sabiniano shook his head, still reeling from the intensity of his experience.

The god's presence always had that impact, but he would never grow used to it.

He should have known his father was near when he lost control like that…Reality came back to him and he rolled off the bed, bowing with as much dignity as he could under the circumstances.

"All of Naxos exists to serve you, my Lord," he said, mind racing. Why was Dionysus here? He hadn't come to visit Sabiniano in more than a century, although Sabiniano regularly reported to him in his temple on Mount Olympus.

"Of course it does," Dionysus said smoothly. "And I'm glad you remember that, despite the fact that Athena chooses not to. She's angered me a great deal, you know."

Sabiniano nodded, straightening to look his father in the face. It was a liberty few were allowed. Dionysus had been calm when he'd heard of the goddess' interference, but Sabiniano knew him well enough to realize how angry he'd been beneath that façade.