The Making of a Goddess

It was all she could do to bite back the screams as the blows rained down on her naked body. She could feel the sweat running down her back in rivulets, and a steady stream of the salty fluid stingingly flowed over the bloody wounds he had left there, as if all his anger and frustration at his meaningless life were directed at her flesh. She didn't understand what she had done to elicit such punishment, such brutal domination that he now exhibited towards her. She was a good sub, she'd always done everything he'd asked, even when she didn't want to, even when his requests terrified her, she had still obeyed him. She had loved him like no other, she still loved him, but she knew he was killing that love with every strike of the whip, and moreso, with the words that came from his mouth.

"You stupid cunt! You just stand there and take everything I dish out to you don't you?" He shouted, panting with the exertion of the beating.

What else was she to do? For her there were no other alternatives. She had made that commitment to him when she accepted his collar. She had been so naive, so determined to please him at any cost, and the cost had been great, much greater than she'd ever expected. It had cost her her self respect, and there was no honor in that....there was only a great building of cold rage within her heart.

She hung from the overhead restraints, barely able to stand, weak with pain and sorrow. The clamps on her nipples and clitoris had been left on much too long, she knew the circulation was impeded and they needed to come off soon or she'd have much more than lash marks on her body. The tears poured down her face, but the dim lights and candles in the makeshift dungeon of his basement didn't illuminate the real pain she felt, the pain that was in her heart.

"Master....please! The clamps have been on for an hour now, they have to come off....please!" she whimpered, pleading with him for mercy. She'd already used the safe word they'd always had, but to no avail. He ignored it, breaking another promise, as he'd broken so many others. There would be no "grace" for her on this day. She wasn’t even sure if he remembered the meaning of the word grace and what it meant to her, or if he’d ever even understood the depths of the need in her soul for honor.

"Shut up bitch!!" he shrieked at her, "I'm not done with you yet. I will use my little play toy as LONG as I choose and as HARD as I choose, understand me slut?!!" He was out of control, completely, utterly out of control. The sweat flew from his brow as he brought the whip crashing down once again onto her soft skin, leaving yet another welt that beaded up with little drops of blood from the shear force of the blow. Her back and buttocks were striped and criss-crossed with the marks of his anger, and her breasts and upper thighs stung with the welts as well.

She could feel the blows begin to lighten as he tired of his task. Suddenly an overwhelming pain starting in her breasts and flooding out to her extremities like a drug overtook her as he removed the nasty, tight, biting nipple clamps. As he removed the last clamp from her clitoris, he undid the fastenings at her wrists and she crumpled to the floor, exhausted and in too much pain to even plead anymore. She heard him laughing as he stood over her.

"No Master...PLEASE..no....." she was begging for mercy, but he would show her none.

"You are such a cunt," he said, as he let the black candle he held in his hand drip the searing hot wax onto her body, her breasts, her belly, and lastly her smooth pussy that he had so loved at one time. The pain was too much and she gratefully slid into the blackness as she lost consciousness.

She slowly became aware of her surroundings as she resurfaced to her reality. The aching in her body was the first sensation she felt, even before she opened her eyes...that and the coldness. She still lay where she had fallen, he hadn't even bothered to cover her with a blanket, or check to see if she was all right. He use to show such loving tenderness to her, and always respected her need for aftercare, but not anymore. He had changed, badly. She didn't know where he had went in his head, but she didn't like where it was, and she felt powerless to bring him back to her. The car accident had changed him, and not for the better. He had lost the loving, tender part of himself, and she had tried so very hard to help him find it, but it seemed that it was lost forever. But, she couldn't think about that now, she needed to get upstairs to clean her wounds and see what damage he had done her this time.

She gingerly sat up, wincing as the pain coursed throughout her body, and looked around the room. The candles had all burnt down and went out, and he had left the dim little lamp in the corner of their basement on, nothing else. She strained to hear any sound coming from upstairs, but there were none. The house was silent. She didn't know if he was up there, or if he had left again to go wherever it was he went to get drunk. She only hoped he would stay out for a good long while and come home too drunk to hurt her anymore. She looked up to see the handcuffs still dangling from the chains he'd placed in the ceiling, and tried to turn her mind away from what had transpired there. She slowly rolled over onto her hip, wincing once again from the pain, and got up onto her knees, managing to rise to a standing position. She made it to the railing at the bottom of the stairs and slowly ascended, each step feeling as if she were being battered from the inside, her tender muscles and skin balking and crying out at the activity of going up the steps. She stood at the top of the stairs, listening once again and feeling terribly relieved that the house was quiet.

"Thank God!" she thought to herself. "He must not be here! Please God, don't let him be here!" She recited that little mantra over and over in her head, "Don't let him be here, don't let him be here."

She stumbled into the master bathroom and gasped when she saw herself in the full-length mirror. She looked as if she'd been caught in a tornado, her beautiful golden hair was tangled and wild and the flaming red marks all over her body looked as if someone had taken a knife to her. The bruises were already evident on her breasts where he had squeezed mercilessly, and the nipples were lacerated from the sharp metal jaws of the clamps. With every step she took she could feel the throbbing between her legs, she knew she needed to see a doctor, but what would she tell them this time? She just couldn't face the questions and the blaming stares the nurses gave her when she'd sought treatment from his abuse before. She turned on the shower in the double stall and stepped in to wash the wounds, wishing that the soap and water would cleanse her soul as easily as the cuts and bruises could be cleaned. She didn't cry. She couldn't cry. She was beyond crying. She felt something turn over in her heart, something soft and warm and loving had turned cold and hard and very dangerous with this latest cruelty. She imagined it was the feeling of her love for him dying, once and for all. He had murdered it, given it a slow, painful death, but the thing that would rise from that death was to be even crueler than he had ever been. She would make him pay for the death of her love, and she would make him pay dearly.

She finished her shower, put antiseptic on her wounds, mixed herself a drink and sat thoughtfully staring out the window at the bright stars and the full moon. She'd always loved the night sky, especially the moon, it gave her strength somehow. She never felt lonely when she was with the moon. Sometimes when she stared up at it on a clear night, she could feel the strength flowing into her body as if it were a gift from the great orb directly to her. The moon never lied, it was always there for her, and now she needed it more than ever. She went out onto the deck and let her robe drop as she bathed in the bright light of the cold moonlight, soaking up the strength of the Goddess and feeling it revive her as if she'd been in a long sleep and was just now awakening. She finished her drink and sat in on the railing of the deck and once again turned her attention skyward. The cool night air caressed her skin, soothing her wounds, and she shook her damp hair feeling the droplets fall onto her shoulders, and she raised her hands to the Moon Goddess and felt a sudden surge of great energy and healing. She thought she must be high from the drink she’d just consumed, but she knew it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the alcohol, it was her destiny, this was the moment she’d been promised and it felt wonderful. The white light shined down directly onto her, and the pain eased and then disappeared, blinking out like a red-hot fire cooled by a waterfall. She heard a voice, much like her own, but she knew it didn’t come from her lips, they remained still.

“It is ended now. It is over. There will BE no more pain. There will be no more submission. The Goddess is IN you, has always been in you and now She rises. You have learned well, and now it is your time to be who you really are.” She shook her head and looked around. She hadn’t spoken the words, but she had heard them as clearly as if someone had been standing next to her, and she knew they were the truest words she’d ever heard. She finally understood that life is just a process of the mind finding its own destiny and understanding what we really are, and then being who we really are. She felt a great peace settle over her soul, and she looked down at her perfect Goddess given body and saw that the wounds had miraculously healed, there were no marks left on her, only perfection…as it should be. She felt her lips curl up into a seductive smile and knew that the submissive had left, and in her place was the real woman…the Goddess, the Sister of the Moon…the Alpha Female.

She stood out in the light of the Moon for a long while, feeling the healing energy enter her mind, body and soul, soaking it up like a dry sponge and then she felt herself reflecting back gratitude for the great gift the Moon Goddess, her sister, had given her…the healing and the cleansing light of the radiance of the night sky. It lived in her now, and there was nothing on earth that could stop her.

She kicked the robe aside, preferring to feel the air on her naked body, and went into the house to make another cocktail. He wasn’t home, she didn’t really care where he was, she had plans to make and hoped that he would stay away long enough for her to make those special plans. She slowly walked to her bedroom, beginning in her mind the preparations for a change of life that he would soon recognize. As she walked she softly hummed an old tune in her mind… “she got the moon in her eyes.”

She laid in the big bed, knowing that at any moment she would hear the familiar sound of his car pulling into the driveway. Her mind was clear, sharp as the light that had invaded her thoughts earlier in the evening, but she knew she must sleep and rest for the long days ahead. She felt no fear, no hesitation, no remorse. The sadness that she'd lived with for so very long was now gone, replaced by a clarity and a strength that surprised her. She felt as if she'd been drugged, sedated yet exhilirated at the same time. She stared at the ceiling for a long time and slowly felt herself drift off into that dark place where the dreams began and reality ended. She slept.

She was awakened by the sound of breaking glass coming from the kitchen and then the familiar cursing of a very angry man. She could hear him stumbling towards the bedroom, staggering in his drunkeness, bumping against the walls in the hall, and then the bedroom door crashing open as he thew it wide and it banged against the back wall. She sensed him lurching across the room and then the bed sank on his side as he fell across it immediately passing out in his inebriated stupor. Usually she undressed him and lovingly covered him from the cold, but not tonight. She reached for the lamp on her bedside table, illuminating the room with the soft yellow glow of the bulb. She stared down at his unshaven face, remembering a time when she had craved nothing more than to touch him, to feel his skin on her fingertips, her lips, her breasts. She remembered a time when he had been everything to her, her sun and her moon, but not anymore. Now, she didn't touch him, she didn't cover him, she just stared coldly at the man who had put her through so much pain. She didn't know that the green of her eyes were like a cats, reflecting the light back outward in a cool, loveless gaze. The moonlight shined in through the window as if to reassure her that all was well and she was not alone. She turned towards the window, a tender smile lit her sweet face, and she hummed to herself, "I know you want to love her, but let me tell you brother, she's been sleepin in the devil's bed."

Her thoughts turned once again to what had been between them, her and her Master. She remembered his loving patience in the beginning, when she knew nothing of his needs, or of her own for that matter. He had been so tender, so patient, so thoughtful and concerned and eager in his teachings. She had loved him so much, she had been willing to risk everything for him, and she had taken that risk. For a time she had thought she’d won the bet, that she’d taken the risk and won, but as time went on, she could FEEL his love change. She could feel it turn from something warm and tender to something halfhearted as if it were an afterthought that he casually tossed her way when it was convenient. She’d chosen to turn away from his lies and betrayals and pretend that everything was as it should be, that he was still an honorable man, but it became increasingly more difficult as his blatant disregard for her feelings turned to a more tangible form of physical punishment.

The woman in New York had been like a knife wound to her heart, but still…she turned away from the truth. Deep in her heart she knew he was a liar, a very good liar, telling stories with little fragments of the truth buried in a heap of blatant lies. Didn’t he know that she was the best thing that would EVER happen to him? Couldn’t he SEE that there were so many other Masters that approached her and saw the beauty in her heart as well as her body? She’d always turned them away with her loyalty, but she wished he still saw that same trueness that she was. Didn’t he know that no one would ever love him like she did? Didn’t he know that every time he hurt her or lied to her, her love for him died a little bit more and the respect she had held for him diminished? How could he not see that she was a true gift from the Goddess, and that when a gift from Her is mistreated that the repercussions would be great? No one fucked with the Goddess of the Moon and walked away unscathed.

It was early evening before he got out of bed the next day, and she was cleaning in the kitchen when he came out of the bedroom, looking very disheveled. "I'm hungry," he muttered to her.

"Get your own food," she retorted.

He stopped midstride, turning his head to glare at her, seeing her for the first time that day, and the expression on his face showed surprise. He knew there should be marks on her from the beating last night, but there were none, she looked great, flawless.

"What did you say to me?" his anger was evident.

"I said...get your own food!" she replied.

"Why you little bitch," and he lunged for her. She pulled easily out of his hung over reach and turned, grabbing her keys off the counter and heading out the door. He was right behind her, but she made it to her car and squealed out of the driveway. She caught a glimpse of his face as she drove down the street, and could see the red fury there. As she turned the corner and headed to the lake she heard his car roaring up behind her. She floored the gas pedal and sped rapidly to her destination.

She parked her car in the parking lot near the public access to the lake and hurriedly flew from the car, pulling her dress of and tossing it on the seat. She wanted to naked for this particular adventure, bare and in her natural state. As she started running for the path she saw his car come tearing into the parking lot, but she never hesitated, she ran off down the path hearing the sound of his slamming door and his curses as he began to chase after her.

She ran through the woods barefoot, guided by the light of the moon in the eastern sky to her left, and the screaming blood-red of the sunset in the west to her right. She knew the trail along the lake by heart as she went flying past the beaver chewed stumps and the felled trees easily, as if her feet didn't even touch the ground. She was vaguely aware of the birds chirping at the last light of the day high up in the trees, and the sound of the waves of Loon Lake softly pelting the shoreline.

She could hear the gulls screeching out over the water as if to warn the entire woods of her wrath. She new these woods, she knew them better than she knew her own home. Just past the beaver logs she veered east, the sunset at her back, and the full moon now directly in her line of vision, leading her, guiding her to that magic spot in the woods that she intended on luring him to. Her destination was a formation on the ground created by a very unusual natural occurrence, a perfect rectangular shape on the ground enclosed on each side by a fallen birch tree with not a single flaw in the clearing, not a single stick laid on the ground within that closure, just a soft bed of fallen leaves and pine needles, and each corner a perfect 90 degree angle, with the longest sides facing the Moon and the Sun, east and west. Her feet rained down hard upon the ground over rocks and sticks, but she felt no pain, she was protected by the speed of her flight and the Goddess above.

She could smell the lilies of the valley as she came closer to the small grassy field that was full of them just before her magic spot came into view. Her feet barely skimmed over the precious, fragile flowers and not a single one was damaged as she passed over them. She dashed for the woods just past the lily field and she could hear him behind her, crashing through the same woods like a bear, damaging everything in it's path, just as she had passed through without harming a single thing. That was the difference between them, he left pain and scars, and she passed through only adding to the gentleness of the world. It was a simple as that, men naturally leave scars and take what they want, women add to the beauty and leave a part of themselves as a gift. But sometimes, when a woman gets real strong, they learn how to scar too...

“You fucking bitch, get your ass back here!” she could hear the panting exertion in his voice. “I’m going to beat the living shit out of you Lynn!!!!” His rage was obvious.

Finally she reached the magic spot, hesitating for just a second as a cloud passed over the face of the moon, a small seed of doubt crept into her heart. What was she doing? She still loved this man, what WAS she doing? She loved him even after all the pain and indiscretions…she loved him…still. But then the cloud passed over, and her determination and strength flooded back with a surge of strength and energy and peace. She stepped into the magic rectangle.

She felt as if a warm wind came from below her, near her feet, and it blew her hair up in a whirlwind and caressed her face like a soft hand, reminding her of who she was. She belonged to the Goddess now, not the man, not the Master…but the Goddess of the Moon, and her eyes glowed green with her strength, but this time the strength came from WITHIN her and not just a reflection of another light. The light was hers, and it was strong.