Game What are you doing right now?

oh no big deal ..just overthinking half my life decisions in the past year .. and why ppl wont learn to pronounce the word jalapeno instead of Jilly-peno -_-
 
Writing...

Excerpt


Pharone walked out to deeper water and then she dived under, her strong strokes powering her along until she broke the surface again and paused, gently treading water. Suddenly, a current lifted her clear of the surface on a column of water and she was able to dive back into the sea when the water column gave her enough height to do so. No sooner did she surface and another column of water tossed her into another dive and then another. This was sure to get the travel-dirt off and give her hair a thorough cleaning and smiled at the thought that this was Poseidon’s way of helping her wash. She felt water currents supporting her hands and feet and discovered she could float without effort as the water pressure was removing the need to tread water. A small bright-coloured oblong sea sponge popped to the surface next to her hand and she knew it was a gift from him so she used it to give herself a thorough scrubbing. There was always a good supply of sea sponges when she had visited Atlantis’s bath houses but it had been several years since she had seen one and she decided, it was going to go with her when she moved on from this location.

She then felt the water pressure, rippling in waves across her skin, not just some of her skin but every part from her scalp to between her toes and everything in between was feeling the sensation. It changed to feeling like feathers tracing a hundred paths all over her body then in an instant, it changed to feeling like thousands of tiny feet dancing all over her. It was so relaxing yet so stimulating at the same time; Pharone was given to just relaxing in the water’s embrace and savouring the experience. Currents and eddies were pushing and pressing against her at the same time, adding their share to the quite physical experience. First pressure then suction wore at her nipples and when she went to cover her breasts with her hands, she discovered the water was pressing her arms away and even holding them firmly by the wrists Nothing was visible and it was just the water using directed force and pressure but she was held as firmly as if it was iron chains binding her. ‘What are you doing?’ she mouthed the words in a whisper but did not make any audible sounds. Slowly, inexorably, she was pulled beneath the water and to her amazement, a bubble of air stayed over her face and she could breathe regardless that she was now some distance from the surface.

“Pharone,” the deep baritone rumbled in her ears. “You’re a beautiful human woman, worthy of a God. I have chosen you.” Pharone remembered the voice then realised, her ears were submerged in the sea, his domain so he was obviously able to talk to her this way. “I can see your thoughts but this is a great honour; you should feel very honoured I have chosen you.”

‘What will Clieto think?’ Pharone reminded him with a thought.

“She won’t ever know as she is no all-seeing God. She is human and does what she is told, just as you will.”

The water forced her legs apart and the pulsing, wave-sensation, ripple effect expanded to now included her labia and clitoris, the water pressing and pressuring, quivering and titillating. Pharone strained with every fibre of her strength but she was powerless and the grip of the water held her almost immobile and only able to writhe with her torso, but not prevent the aquatic attention. It felt amazingly good but she also realised, she was not going to have a say in what was about to transpire. The water was relentless at tormenting every piece of skin she had, pressing, pushing, tickling, rippling and more. Being held by just water was quite frightening, especially when she could see she was quite a distance beneath the surface and it was just the bubble of air covering her face that allowed her to breathe. Regardless that it was just water, Pharone felt that it would only take her mindset to change to call what was happening to her rape. Poseidon was going to get his pleasures, and whether his pleasure was his ability to feel what the water was touching or whether his pleasure was doing what he wanted to the woman he held captive, Pharone had no idea which was the case here but that did not stop her putting everything she had into resisting his amorous intent.

She knew it was just water, but what suddenly drove deep into her womb felt exactly like a man’s hard erection. This one swelled when it was in and elicited a cry of pain from Pharone as vagina was stretched beyond anything she had experienced before and it did hurt sufficiently to drag tears from this hard woman’s eyes. The Gods were renowned for their pleasure excesses, with lovers of any sex, affairs of a similar nature, orgies to befuddle the senses and perversions that tortured normal minds being common-place within the hallowed halls of the Gods and everyone knew Poseidon had featured prominently and often in the telling. Pharone had on occasion, enjoyed being roughly treated and on the receiving end of some demanding and forceful sex but this was a maelstrom of desire, a tempest of unbridled lust, a storm of relentless passion and a hurricane of soul-numbing sensations. Pharone had no issues with how utterly good it felt, even the pain of the stretching had given way to the most incredible feeling of being fulfilled up she had ever known. Although she would not have said no, she was angry because she wasn’t asked; she wasn’t given a choice to say yes and she resented being treated as no more than a slut to sate a man’s desires, even if that man is a God.

The fact he could treat her as just some convenient trollop to vent his lusts on and there was absolutely nothing she could do about that and when she realised that, it came as a shock because the relationship the pair had enjoyed to date had never even hinted that such intimate happenings were probable or even possible. The waves of mind-numbing pleasure made thinking or even maintaining he desire to be angry impossible as both were lost in the sensations of the flesh that went so far above and beyond anything she believed possible. Her climax arrived accompanied by an agonised and despairing cry then that climax was followed by another and then another. Poseidon was in her mind, reading her every reaction to his every movement of the water she was submerged in, increasing the actions that had the greatest effect then watching, and feeling and holding her securely while she writhed pathetically in exquisite agony. Crying, screaming and sobbing with tears streaming down her face, every muscle on her perfectly formed body aching from her supreme efforts to break free between the periods when a sexual climax locked her muscles rigid and shivering with the effort.

Time lost all meaning. Half the time, she wasn’t even sure if she was conscious. Her sanity was in peril. Her mind was so trapped with the most exquisite sources of pleasure that there was a growing reluctance in her consciousness to fight back. There existed for her just the sensation of the water caressing her all over and the powerful sexual intercourse reminding her that she was all-woman. Awareness slipped away and there was nothing but the physical sensations she was feeling, the pressure of the water and a void where her ability to think once resided. The sun was low in the western sky when Pharone realised, she had washed up on the beach and the gentle waves were rolling around her as they broke on the shore. She began crying, nor for herself per se’, but for the realisation that all her life, every decision, every act, everything she did was because she believed it was the choice of someone free. Poseidon just demonstrated that as much as she believed she was a free woman, she had been wrong. She was nothing but a slave and an object of amusement for the gods and that realisation was tearing at her until now, steely resolve. She had devoted her life to the universal acceptance of personal freedoms and although she had only been a child when it began, she did not agree with the bringing of slaves to Atlantis.

But she was also a loyal daughter of a democracy and as such, the majority rule saw her accepting of what had come to pass without ever condoning it. She was a soldier, sworn to defend Atlantis and everything related to its people, politics and culture until death claimed her. That had been a choice a free young woman had made and although she had been being groomed to enter military service almost all her adult life, at any stage, she could have freely chosen another path, politics, artisan, parent and any of the myriad of options a free society offered. To feel every belief she had ever harboured crushed in a God’s demonstration of the true worth of the humans who followed them had torn her soul apart. I will not live as a slave, she thought to herself and the urge to live drained from her as surely as every wave that broke on the shore, drained back to the sea that spawned it. The urge to even move was lacking and the experience with Poseidon had left her and with an empty mind and a crushed soul. Life without freedom was no life at all so she would lie here until her life fled because she no longer wished to live. She would not be a slave, even for a god.

******

Ls x
 
Lakeside said:
Writing...

Excerpt


Pharone walked out to deeper water and then she dived under, her strong strokes powering her along until she broke the surface again and paused, gently treading water. Suddenly, a current lifted her clear of the surface on a column of water and she was able to dive back into the sea when the water column gave her enough height to do so. No sooner did she surface and another column of water tossed her into another dive and then another. This was sure to get the travel-dirt off and give her hair a thorough cleaning and smiled at the thought that this was Poseidon’s way of helping her wash. She felt water currents supporting her hands and feet and discovered she could float without effort as the water pressure was removing the need to tread water. A small bright-coloured oblong sea sponge popped to the surface next to her hand and she knew it was a gift from him so she used it to give herself a thorough scrubbing. There was always a good supply of sea sponges when she had visited Atlantis’s bath houses but it had been several years since she had seen one and she decided, it was going to go with her when she moved on from this location.

She then felt the water pressure, rippling in waves across her skin, not just some of her skin but every part from her scalp to between her toes and everything in between was feeling the sensation. It changed to feeling like feathers tracing a hundred paths all over her body then in an instant, it changed to feeling like thousands of tiny feet dancing all over her. It was so relaxing yet so stimulating at the same time; Pharone was given to just relaxing in the water’s embrace and savouring the experience. Currents and eddies were pushing and pressing against her at the same time, adding their share to the quite physical experience. First pressure then suction wore at her nipples and when she went to cover her breasts with her hands, she discovered the water was pressing her arms away and even holding them firmly by the wrists Nothing was visible and it was just the water using directed force and pressure but she was held as firmly as if it was iron chains binding her. ‘What are you doing?’ she mouthed the words in a whisper but did not make any audible sounds. Slowly, inexorably, she was pulled beneath the water and to her amazement, a bubble of air stayed over her face and she could breathe regardless that she was now some distance from the surface.

“Pharone,” the deep baritone rumbled in her ears. “You’re a beautiful human woman, worthy of a God. I have chosen you.” Pharone remembered the voice then realised, her ears were submerged in the sea, his domain so he was obviously able to talk to her this way. “I can see your thoughts but this is a great honour; you should feel very honoured I have chosen you.”

‘What will Clieto think?’ Pharone reminded him with a thought.

“She won’t ever know as she is no all-seeing God. She is human and does what she is told, just as you will.”

The water forced her legs apart and the pulsing, wave-sensation, ripple effect expanded to now included her labia and clitoris, the water pressing and pressuring, quivering and titillating. Pharone strained with every fibre of her strength but she was powerless and the grip of the water held her almost immobile and only able to writhe with her torso, but not prevent the aquatic attention. It felt amazingly good but she also realised, she was not going to have a say in what was about to transpire. The water was relentless at tormenting every piece of skin she had, pressing, pushing, tickling, rippling and more. Being held by just water was quite frightening, especially when she could see she was quite a distance beneath the surface and it was just the bubble of air covering her face that allowed her to breathe. Regardless that it was just water, Pharone felt that it would only take her mindset to change to call what was happening to her rape. Poseidon was going to get his pleasures, and whether his pleasure was his ability to feel what the water was touching or whether his pleasure was doing what he wanted to the woman he held captive, Pharone had no idea which was the case here but that did not stop her putting everything she had into resisting his amorous intent.

She knew it was just water, but what suddenly drove deep into her womb felt exactly like a man’s hard erection. This one swelled when it was in and elicited a cry of pain from Pharone as vagina was stretched beyond anything she had experienced before and it did hurt sufficiently to drag tears from this hard woman’s eyes. The Gods were renowned for their pleasure excesses, with lovers of any sex, affairs of a similar nature, orgies to befuddle the senses and perversions that tortured normal minds being common-place within the hallowed halls of the Gods and everyone knew Poseidon had featured prominently and often in the telling. Pharone had on occasion, enjoyed being roughly treated and on the receiving end of some demanding and forceful sex but this was a maelstrom of desire, a tempest of unbridled lust, a storm of relentless passion and a hurricane of soul-numbing sensations. Pharone had no issues with how utterly good it felt, even the pain of the stretching had given way to the most incredible feeling of being fulfilled up she had ever known. Although she would not have said no, she was angry because she wasn’t asked; she wasn’t given a choice to say yes and she resented being treated as no more than a slut to sate a man’s desires, even if that man is a God.

The fact he could treat her as just some convenient trollop to vent his lusts on and there was absolutely nothing she could do about that and when she realised that, it came as a shock because the relationship the pair had enjoyed to date had never even hinted that such intimate happenings were probable or even possible. The waves of mind-numbing pleasure made thinking or even maintaining he desire to be angry impossible as both were lost in the sensations of the flesh that went so far above and beyond anything she believed possible. Her climax arrived accompanied by an agonised and despairing cry then that climax was followed by another and then another. Poseidon was in her mind, reading her every reaction to his every movement of the water she was submerged in, increasing the actions that had the greatest effect then watching, and feeling and holding her securely while she writhed pathetically in exquisite agony. Crying, screaming and sobbing with tears streaming down her face, every muscle on her perfectly formed body aching from her supreme efforts to break free between the periods when a sexual climax locked her muscles rigid and shivering with the effort.

Time lost all meaning. Half the time, she wasn’t even sure if she was conscious. Her sanity was in peril. Her mind was so trapped with the most exquisite sources of pleasure that there was a growing reluctance in her consciousness to fight back. There existed for her just the sensation of the water caressing her all over and the powerful sexual intercourse reminding her that she was all-woman. Awareness slipped away and there was nothing but the physical sensations she was feeling, the pressure of the water and a void where her ability to think once resided. The sun was low in the western sky when Pharone realised, she had washed up on the beach and the gentle waves were rolling around her as they broke on the shore. She began crying, nor for herself per se’, but for the realisation that all her life, every decision, every act, everything she did was because she believed it was the choice of someone free. Poseidon just demonstrated that as much as she believed she was a free woman, she had been wrong. She was nothing but a slave and an object of amusement for the gods and that realisation was tearing at her until now, steely resolve. She had devoted her life to the universal acceptance of personal freedoms and although she had only been a child when it began, she did not agree with the bringing of slaves to Atlantis.

But she was also a loyal daughter of a democracy and as such, the majority rule saw her accepting of what had come to pass without ever condoning it. She was a soldier, sworn to defend Atlantis and everything related to its people, politics and culture until death claimed her. That had been a choice a free young woman had made and although she had been being groomed to enter military service almost all her adult life, at any stage, she could have freely chosen another path, politics, artisan, parent and any of the myriad of options a free society offered. To feel every belief she had ever harboured crushed in a God’s demonstration of the true worth of the humans who followed them had torn her soul apart. I will not live as a slave, she thought to herself and the urge to live drained from her as surely as every wave that broke on the shore, drained back to the sea that spawned it. The urge to even move was lacking and the experience with Poseidon had left her and with an empty mind and a crushed soul. Life without freedom was no life at all so she would lie here until her life fled because she no longer wished to live. She would not be a slave, even for a god.

******

Ls x
Click to expand...
Amazing!
 
giphy.gif
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Trending content

Back
Top