The Rape of Persephone

Sweaty bodies intermingling, the stars swimming before her eyes as he wrapped his long fingers around her and squeezed, thrashing together, her hips rising up to meet his, each wanting to consume the other. She pulled at his hair roughly, forcing him to meet her eyes. Gray pierced through her soul but she could see nothing else of him. Why couldn't she see anything else?

"You are mine, Persephone, and I will kill you before I let anyone else touch you," he growled. She felt a searing pain on her belly. He was branding her, an unbearable heat spread through her. She could not breathe. She could not see. All she could do was surrender, to the pain, to the pleasure, to this man's will. And so she did, screaming as waves upon waves of pleasure ripped through her.

She awoke with a gasp and shook her head. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. But why did it haunt her so, even in her waking hours? Despite the cold night air, her nipples were taut, her body pulsing with heat. She let her fingers - the same fingers that had intertwined with dark, almost bluish black hair - run gently across her bronze belly. There it was, the branding. The crude H. He had marked her, made her his. But who was he? And, worst of all, why did she crave his touch again?

"Sophie?" Her roommate poked her head in. Sophie could only imagine what she looked like, naked, entangled in her sheets, her hand resting protectively over the branded mark on her belly. It was the last thing that made Demi's eyes flash angrily as she strode towards her and engulfed her in a hug. They were the same age, but Demi always acted like the "mom friend" of the group. Not that there was a group. It was just her and Demi and no one else. Which was fine with Sophie. Ultimately, she felt more comfortable in nature by herself than with anyone else, and Demi was the sole exception. Demi and... that man, whose touch she craved, whose fingers she could still feel ghosting over her body.

Sophie shivered and Demi's hug tightened. "Did you have that nightmare again, dear?"

Sophie nodded. She didn't know how long she and Demi had been friends, had no idea why her roommate had taken her into her posh flat, refusing to let her pay rent. She only knew what Demi told her, that she had saved her life once, when Demi had lost the will to live, and that she had been with her when no one else was. In return, Demi had loved her, cared for her, got her a part time job, and paid for her therapy.

"Are you okay?" Demi whispered, gently removing Sophie's hand from her belly.

Sophie nodded.

"When was the last time you saw Dr Khan?"

Sophie shrugged. "He said we had hit a roadblock. He said the only way forward was if I agreed to go on his intensive immersive programme, living in his lab under constant supervision."

Demi bristled. "He wants to poke at you like you're some sort of rat?"

Sophie laughed. "Hey, rats are misunderstood. And that is why I turned him down. I knew you wouldn't want me to go away from you for so long."

That gave her roommate pause. She looked deep into Sophie's golden-brown eyes, wide and trusting, innocent but also the witness to so much pain. "Sophie, I want you to get better. Whatever it takes. I am not comfortable with you living under the constant watch of a scientist, but I trust Khan. And...if this is what you need to get over your trauma, then I will support you a hundred percent. You know I will."

Sophie nodded and buried her face in Demi's bosom, letting her gentle breathing pattern calm her down. "I don't know how I will ever repay you, Demi."

"Just come back to me, Sophie," Demi murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. "I just want you to be happy again."

***

Sophie hated lying to Demi. This wasn't Dr Khan's programme, it was that of a little known European doctor, someone known only Aïdes. Demi had done her utmost to keep Sophie isolated from white men. Perhaps it had something to do with her past trauma. Dr Khan had seemed safe to Demi. He was, unfortunately, not equipped to help Sophie deal with her trauma, especially since she did not want to forget; she wanted to remember. So he referred her to a little known doctor who lived in Greece, a man whose methods were unconventional but who was fast gaining recognition in their field.

For Sophie, he was her last hope, and so she trudged along the narrow path, her small bag in tow. Her driver had insisted on dropping her off a mile away, shaking his head and mumbling in rapid Greek even though she tried to offer him extra to take her the rest of the way. She had encountered no one except birds and critters, something that calmed her. The sun warmed her to her core. Why couldn't she have lived here, instead of in miserable London? She didn't like the crowds, the traffic, the loud sounds, and she certainly didn't like the weather. In spite of herself, she started to sing, a clear melody that broke through the silence. The birds chirping seemed to harmonise with her and she giggled, feeling like a Disney princess. She even plucked some flowers and fashioned a crown for herself.

The menacing castle did nothing to dampen her spirits. For the first time, she was free. Free of her doubts, free of Demi's watchful gaze, free of mobile network, free of... No, she did not want to be free of him. Even now, she craved his embrace, not quite forgotten. She desperately missed the sound of his voice whispering awful things into her ears, how he wanted to defile her, humiliate her, ruin her. Who was this man? What had he done with her? She was about to find out, she mused, as she beheld the castle in front of her.

The grounds were unkempt and overgrown. The gates were open but ever so slightly rusted. She laughed at the thought of this eccentric Dr Aïdes. He was probably old and super weird. Probably didn't have any staff either, except for a grizzled old housekeeper. The inside would be full of dust, probably. But she didn't mind. She'd tell the good doctor to do his doctoring outside, where she could tend to the garden. The poor plants had been neglected for too long.

She strode up to the door and banged the knocker with a confidence she had not displayed in years. No one answered, but the heavy wooden door creaked opened on its own. She giggled again. This was like a horror movie. But she wasn't scared. Dr Khan had given her the address. And Demi, rich, powerful, strong Demi, would gut him if he let anything happen to her.

"Helloooo?" Sophie said, stepping inside. It was dark, just as she had predicted, but it was not grimy, or dusty, or old looking. Everything was new, even though the fashion was of days long gone by. The cold stone floor gleamed under the sputtering light of the torches on the walls.

"Whoa, metal!"

"That wasn't quite the goal I had in mind while decorating it, but I'm glad you approve, little flower."

That voice, deep, husky, promising pain and secrets and pleasure and... salvation. Sophie gasped and turned around and saw him. "D-Dr Aïdes?"

He stepped forward into the light, inky black hair slicked back. Tall. Broad shoulders. She took in all his details with a sense of foreboding and...something else. A tug in her belly, a brief sizzling sensation where her brand was. And then she looked up into his face. The face she had forgotten but could now remember every little detail of. And those eyes. Gray, piercing into her soul.

She squeaked and backed away, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. But before she could run, he was upon her, his long fingers wrapped in a deathlike vice around her wrist, almost bruising the soft skin underneath.

"Finally, you have returned to me, Persephone."

His grip hurt, it burned her, not the way fire does, but the way cold ice does. Sophie struggled but could not get away. Her teeth started to chatter. "Y-you..."

His smile only made him look more threatening. "Don't tell me you forgot your husband, little flower."

For a second, she grew deathly still, letting him draw her to his strong, muscled chest, letting his hands rove over her belly, tracing the scar. How did he... who was he?

The silence was pierced by her scream as she started to struggle, stomping on his foot, snapping at him with her teeth, spitting fire with her eyes. Whoever this was, he was the one who had done this to her. And he would pay.

But she didn't faze him. He said nothing, but he pushed her against the wall, one hand holding both of hers and the other tracing down her jaw as she desperately tried to snap and bite, growling at him.

"I see you remembered my fondness for dogs," he grinned. "But you have forgotten how to behave in front of your master, dog."

And with that, he slapped her, hard. Before she could recover, he smacked her with the back of his hand. He wrapped his hand around her neck and kept it there, threateningly. She couldn't breathe anything but his scent, musk and tobacco and a hint of something intoxicating. She couldn't look anywhere except into his eyes, cold, depthless, lifeless, and yet invigorating her as they bore into hers. He let her arms go, but she was powerless to move, fixated by his electric gaze.

"Take off your clothes." It wasn't a suggestion but an order. This man - this crazed beast of a man - wanted her to submit to him. Her fingers crept towards where her blouse tucked into her skirt. She pulled it out and undid the first few buttons, until she grazed her scar. And then she stiffened.

"No!" she thundered. "I am not your dog. I am not your plaything. I will not surrender myself to you."

Her words drove him into a frenzy. His grin widened, his eyes unfocused. "Good, because I like it much better this way." In the flash of a second, he had pulled down a ceremonial sword that hung beside her on the wall. Realising he was going to hurt her, she pushed him off her and took off, the adrenaline giving her a strength she did not know she possessed. His laughter followed her. She could hear the sound of him unsheathing the sword. Where was she? Why hadn't she run towards the door? She skidded into a room with a fireplace that was lit. She pulled out the poker, red hot at its tip, and turned around to face the deranged man.

She brandished it before her, speaking in a quiet but steady voice. "Stay away from me. Or else I will kill you."

He continued to approach her, smiling maniacally. "No, you won't. And do you know why, little flower?"

She lunged for him with the poker but her heart wasn't in it, and he knocked it aside without batting an eye. The tip of his sword was at her neck. She gulped and pain blossomed. The sword's tip had pricked her skin. She would have to stay extremely still if she wanted to stay alive. The hot fire behind her, his cold steel ahead of her. Keeping his hand steady, he bent forward to gaze deep into her large, frightened eyes.

"You, my fertile goddess of life, could never bring yourself to kill someone. Least of all the God of Death. And you may have forgotten me, but I will make you remember. Now, submit."

There was no denying him. Sophie rushed to unbutton her blouse but her trembling got in the way. With a low growl, Aïdes let his sword fall to the ground and fell upon her, scratching and tearing at her clothes like a mad beast skinning alive its prey. Her clothes lay in tatters around her. Aïdes was panting as he pushed her up against the wall and pressed into her, rubbing his bulge against her. She was still, letting his hands rove over her body, but the scar on her stomach burned. It burned her and - the stars save her - pleasure seared over her body. Who was this man? What was he doing to her? His hand paused on her belly and she could almost feel his smile as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Whom do you belong to, little flower?" he rasped.

Him. Of course she belonged to him. All roads led to him. But she couldn't voice it. She was gasping as he pulled and twisted her nipples hard, sending pain and pleasure into overdrive.

"Aïdes...please," she begged, but he twisted harder and she moaned.

"You do not get to call me that,' he barked. 'I am your master, and you will address me as such. Do you understand?"

She was having trouble speaking. She was having trouble understanding. It was all too overwhelming, his scent, his calloused hands against her breasts, his bulge rubbing against her core.

His teeth nipped at her neck, drawing blood. "Speak, dog. Address your master."

"Y-yes, Master," she stuttered, now going wild as he lapped up the blood trickling down her neck.

He raised his head to meet hers, a thousand emotions flitting over his face. "Whom do you belong to?"

"You, M-master."

With that, he growled and turned her around, pressing her against the wall. Without warning, he shoved himself into her.

He was large, larger than she could take. But she was wetter than she ever remembered being. Her sore nipples protested against being rubbed against the rough wall, but it didn't matter. He was hitting her just right. He was fucking her as a beast possessed and she was enjoying it. She was nothing but his plaything. He was her master and he could have everything she had. She began to moan and thrust back into him, anticipating the pleasure that built up within her. She hated herself. She hated this man. But God, she wanted this so bad.

Almost as if he could read her thoughts, he stopped thrusting and pulled out, leaving behind a void that made Sophie pine. He tugged her tresses, forcing her to turn around and face him, and then spat in her face.

"Pets who misbehave don't get to come," he growled.

Sophie sputtered, feeling humiliated and even more aroused. He pushed her down to her knees and she knew what he wanted. His cock throbbed, red, angry, as she gazed into it.

"Suck on the bone, dog," he ordered.

She balked and didn't move. He slapped her on the face with his cock and then tugged her hair to look up at him.

"What's the matter, dog?"

"I- I've never done this before."

"Stop stuttering," he raged. "And you have done this before, even if you don't remember it. Now show your master how much you worship him."

She opened her mouth to protest but found it filled with his cock. She slobbered over it, choking as he pushed it down her throat.

"Use your tongue, dog."

So she did. She lavished her tongue on his cock as he fucked her mouth, trying to swirl around it and pleasure him. She understood somehow that if she let her teeth graze him there'd be hell to pay, so she kept them out of the way. It didn't matter what she did, though. She wasn't an active participant in this twisted union. She was but a hole for him to abuse, as he recklessly pulled her hair and fucked her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, causing her to choke. His precum and her spit came drooling out of her mouth and the sight of the fluids glistening on her skin drove him wild. He pushed deeper, down her throat, cutting off her air supply. Sophie couldn't see but she knew she could take him. That somehow, it was her duty to take him. She licked his balls, running on pure adrenaline and bliss.

"Touch yourself," he growled.

Her hands, which had been sinking into his hips, went down of their own accord. As one finger played with her nipple, the other started to rub her clit furiously. Stars started to swim before her eyes as she struggled, and failed, to breathe. But blood pumped inside her and made her clit swell up and she continued to rub herself as though her life depended on it. The tension inside her body became unbearable and she looked up at her master, imploring him.

"Let go, Persephone," he said. And that was the last thing she remembered. Him spilling his seed inside her as she started to spasm, passing out in a haze of pleasure.

***

She needed rest, she needed to think straight, but he wasn't letting her. He haunted her in her dreams, kissing her like she was the most precious flower and then fucking her like she was his dirty whore. She struggled and moaned, trying to wake up from her dream. Reality was even stranger. She was being fucked mercilessly by Aïdes's - no, her master's - fingers. She gasped as they hit her most sensitive spot, feeling exposed and exhilarated at the same time. While his fingers pumped in and out of her, his tongue teased and danced around her clit. She moaned again and tried to grind up against him, causing him to look up. The sight of his eyes gazing at her as he licked her was incredibly erotic and a part of her wanted to bury her fingers in his hair. She couldn't, though. Her hands were chained to the four poster bed on which she lay. There was a heavy collar around her neck as well. She wasn't going to be moving any time soon. But she could buck her hips, and so she did. Was she trying to throw him off? Or have him eat more of her?

"I can't believe you fainted like a human, little flower," he mumbled around her clit, the vibrations causing her to squirm. "Just how much of yourself have you forgotten?"

"What are you talking about?" she groaned, trying to ignore the pleasure building up inside her. "Husband? Human? Why are you throwing these strange h-words around?" And then she froze. She didn't need to touch her stomach to remember the scar. The H.

"You're..." she whispered.

"Your husband, Hades," he said, and curled his fingers inside her the same time as he bit down on her clit. She came with a scream, bucking and thrashing. He didn't let her go, mercilessly licking and biting her even though she was so sensitive. A haze settled over her mind as her vision blurred. But one thing pierced through it all.

Hades. Her husband. Her master. He had found her.

Hades crawled up to her, slowly nibbling and kissing his way over her body. And it reacted just the way it used to, trembling in barely withheld excitement. But she wasn't so sure. She had a sinking feeling that this was wrong, this was all wrong. He wouldn't just take her back. Not this easily.

Forcing her voice to remain steady, she asked him the question foremost on his mind. "Hades, how long have you been... alone?"

His features hardened as he bit her nipple, drawing blood, but there was no answer. Sophie - no, Persephone - screamed, in fear, in pain, and worst of all, in lust.

He looked at her, a nerve jumping in his jaw. "Time's a funny thing, little flower. A thousand years went by as quick as a second before I met you. And yet, after you left me, every second was an agonising millennium."

"Hades." She was getting really scared now. "P-please let me go. I don't remember everything but I promise you I'm back, here, with you, aaaahhh!"

He was biting her again, her neck, her jaw, and then her lips. He gnawed at them like a hungry animal. Which he was, she thought. She had loved this about him once. But now?

"You have not earned the right to call me by my name yet, dog," he spat, making her flinch. "Look at you, you're pathetic. You've forgotten yourself. These chains would never have held a powerful goddess and yet you can barely move."

"H-Master, please," she begged, tears in her eyes. "You're hurting me."

"You're one to talk about hurting someone, dog." With that, he twisted her so that she was on her stomach. "Raise your ass. Yes, just like that. And don't you fucking scream. Or else it'll be a thousand times worse."

She believed him. He had never shown this side of his to her before, but she had seen it when he dealt with the most polluted of souls. This was what she had become to him. A polluted husk of her former self.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the cracking of a whip, followed by searing pain. She screamed and was lashed again and again.

"What did I tell you about screaming, dog?"

So she buried her mouth in the pillow, letting it absorb her screams and her tears, as her limbs ached from the strange position he had put them in by flipping her over. She did not know how many times he hit her - she lost count after 50 - but she knew she wouldn't be able to sit for days. She knew he would continue to hit her until all his anger was spent, or until he was exhausted. Neither seemed to be happening, so she squeezed her eyes shut and remembered a happier time... with Demi, no, Demeter. Her mother. What had happened to make her forget? And why could she still not remember?