Beauty and the Beast
By Seraph
I live in shadows, I have all my life. Its sweet embrace cloaks me from a world which sits in judgement eternal. In this my hidden domain, I am not mocked, cut by the cruel words of family and strangers alike - their sharp tongues do so tear my soul. Behind this, my mask of night, I am not the monster from which children lay awake in fear of, in those small, quiet hours before dawn.Here at least I can pretend I am somebody, worthy of affection…worthy of love. You see fantasy is my reality…my sanity. So I remain gratefully unseen, watching from the shadows.
How long have I been here...minutes...hours? When I watch, time has no importance, no purchase on my senses - how could it? The vision before me is so consuming, so painfully consuming, it fills me with such bittersweet desire. And so is my curse, to behold, but never, to *be* held.
Nothing maters though, nothing but the solitary destination I must reach. To love alone.
Even now my hand trails a tentative path down my scarred chest, my fingers brushing over my twisted flesh. My ugliness is my anchor, it helps me remain silent, helps me to remember what I am -- an abomination. It’s okay though. I can admit that after all the years I have dwelt within this prison of a body.
I hold my breath as I unfasten my pants with ease and smile; how expert at this I have become. My hand slips inside, and I finally exhale, as my cold fingers encircle my cock. My eyes close as I take my first stroke, but, just for a moment, I cannot deny myself the portrait of flesh before me.
Ares.
My beautiful God of War.
So perfect, so magnificent. How long have I yearned to touch his flawless skin, to feel the strength beneath the smooth contours of his body. How long have I wanted his arms to embrace me, crush me, his breath, hot upon the nape of my neck. I sigh, fantasies are such a cruel vice.
He stands before me, naked, the movement of his sweat slick muscles depicted by the flicker of candle light, as he feeds his huge cock to the hungry mouth before him.
Iphicles?
Forgive me if I sound uncertain, but for once only, have I heard the name said <cried>. How long ago now? I do not recall, but I was certain it was summer, the air heavy and still. It was the first time I had discovered their coupling. Oh, I knew Ares had a new lover; half the Gods on Olympus knew that. But I knew something else, something even the Great God of War did not know himself.
Ares was in love.
I don’t know how I knew, I just did. The change too subtle for most to spot, screamed murder at me. Almost overnight I could seek him out so easily, months went by without me being able to follow…to watch. He had covered his trail so well, that even his most devout hound could not sniff out his scent. Until one day, my heart led me to Corinth, and finally, I lay my eyes upon the bastard who had seduced *my* God.
Ares lay sprawled across a vast mattress, his eyes half closed, only a glimmer of the liquid dark pools catching the light. His breath was shallow, fast, skin flushed, soft, full lips parted. And there between his legs, sucking, adoring and worshipping, was his lover.
A strange sensation hit me, many in fact. Of course, first was jealousy, my green demon, my companion, who so often sits upon my shoulder, goading and teasing. There was hatred too, and loathing, even anger, but there was another feeling, one I wished to suppress, one I wanted to run from. The fact I could not accept it, did not stop me becoming hard instantly.
He was quite simply beautiful, don’t get me wrong, I wished him a thousand sufferings then and there. But still… his face, smoother that a child’s, framed by the softest autumnal hair. He conveyed such gentleness, such peace yet radiated the strength of a warrior, and conviction of a priest. His body was a divine temple of perfection, how many years to sculpt such form, only Zeus could tell; the slightest move he made enthralled me.
No one had ever made me feel this way, this aroused…except Ares. But this newest addition to my theatre must be the very finest example of all humanity. My heart sank as I grew ever harder, a mortal has stolen from this wretched God, is nothing sacred?
I cursed my body for its betrayal, hated myself even as my hand began its eager descent. I knew I had to be quick, I knew Ares was close. How many times had I witnessed him in the throws of ecstasy. Hips raised, his fingers grasping handfuls of hair, eyes closed, and mouth agape.
His lover never stopped, relentless in his attention, his tongue caressing the wet slick head, savouring each drop of fluid that leaked from its slit. I was close myself, ready to fill my own hand until I heard something that tore me in two.
"Iphicles…." Ares cried out as his cock convulsed, spilling spouts of hot seed into the awaiting mouth.
My hand dropped to my side, I had to fight not to vomit as the bile and disgust…the hurt rose up inside me, I know there were tears. I felt their hot sting on my cheeks, heard them splash to the marble floor beneath. Never in all these years had he ever…ever displayed such a raw emotion as just then. Ares was in love and I wanted to die.
Unable to witness anymore, I was about to take my leave, to run away and shield my withered heart, when I suddenly heard Ares roar.
"Get off me!" With both hands Ares shoved the surprised human away with such a force, he was sent crashing into the opposite wall.
Disoriented , certainly concussed, he struggled to sit up. I smiled when I saw the blood seeping from his heavy brow, dripping down his confused face.
"Ares?" The name was said as a question, fear and pain lacing his voice. "Did...did I displease?"
Of course you didn’t you fool, I mocked him in my own mind. He had brought out something in Ares that he thought he’d buried so deep, hidden so well, that it would never be found…*his* heart. It was a distraction, a weakness, maybe the only thing Ares was truly afraid of. I knew that, I knew everything about him, but this pathetic mortal had no idea, he merely concluded that he had not performed, and he would die with that thought.
Ares was off the bed, racing towards him, eyes burning like black fire, teeth clamped shut. Oh, the face of War was a sight to behold! I wasn’t quite sure what made the noise, maybe the bone in that perfect nose, maybe the sound of his skull bouncing off the masonry. Ares had kicked him so hard, I was surprised his head remained on his wretched body.
I watched now, as this object was stripped of his beauty, my hand went unconsciously to my face. That’s right, know my shame. I watched, a new perversion for me to observe, to consume. Petty justice, so satisfying to the soul. What better, than to be reduced to the image of a beast…but the fool never once begged him to stop. I admired that from my solitude. Oh he cried at first, screamed when his leg had been shattered, but a plea never passed his split lips.
Bravery, stupidity, I knew it was neither. I suddenly realised we, as different as we were, had a whole world in common, our devotion, our pain…our love. This beauty, who was so close to him, who shared his time, his conversation, his bed; suffered as much as I, the beast, the outcast in the shadows.
With the final reserves of a dying strength, his hands grasped the ankles of his God, stretching his head up to look directly into the raging storms of his eyes. When the words came, they were choked though bubbles of thick blood.
"Ares….why? I love you…" He never finished, his lips still mouthing silent words as he slumped into oblivion.
I remember the silence, it was if the universe had paused for breath.
Ares.
My beautiful, God of War.
He stood, naked, breathless, his chest splattered with blood staring down at his work. You see, what no one understands, is how great the power of war truly is. The mastery required, so immense, so total, only Ares could ever sail its oceans -- how could I not love such strength?
Passion, anger, hate, love, death, life, power, destruction, rage, torment, suffering, victory…War. Before me stood all, unleashed from the cage of control, it scared and thrilled this disciple. What stood before me, was the raw power of all Ares represented, and this mortal had released him, by simply touching his heart.
He took a step back then, his head shaking slowly from side to side. "Never..." he breathed. "Never." And then, with one last look at the broken body at his feet, he was gone.
I think it was then my heart began to beat again, its noise deafening. I cautiously stepped from the shadows, dematerialising as the light touched my skin. I picked my way past the debris, and the blood, and crouched down by the man. With one hand, I pulled him over and only then looked down upon him.
Gone were his features, disfigured as I was, I did not compare to this. The once golden hair, now matted with his sweet blood, his eyes swollen, lips split open. If I listened carefully, I could hear his life draining away, only fragile, his grasp upon this world.
Uncertain as to my reasons, (curiosity or care I could not say), I placed my hands upon his chest and breathed deeply. I went inwards, searching for the fire, the furnace that rages within me, which fueled my power. In my mind, my arms embraced its ferocity, and I allowed myself to be engulfed with its beautiful heat. It spread from the pit of my stomach, up across my shoulders before racing down my arms. My fingers began to tingle, to glow as if lightening had seeded there, and now was charging, and waiting to strike.
Then with a release that made my body feel in the very throes of orgasm, I let my fire pass through my fingertips and surge into its new host. His body went rigid, chest rising as the mortal accepted my Godly strength. I fell back onto my knees, drained, my muscles twitching. All I could do now was watch and wait.
His life was in the hands of The Fates now.
