Year of the Inner Goddess

 December 2024 – audio version 

I am a Lady of the Night.

Strange, how these words now fill me with a sense of power and splendor. Not so many years ago, they might have sent me cringing under the weight of self-righteous disdain—my god’s judgmental scowl ever-present in my mind. And yet, here I was, perched on the corner of my bed, ankles demurely crossed, my eyes fixed on the brass handle of the door. I awaited its turning, heralding the arrival of my Madam and the announcement of my first guest of the evening.

Given my tendency toward anxiety and overthinking, one might assume I would be a trembling wreck—heartburn roiling within me like the molten core of a restless volcano. And yet, as I sat there, I realized the nervous energy resided only in the tips of my fingers. The rest of me? I was alive, alight, and pulsing with readiness. My Inner Goddess surged to the surface, vibrant and commanding, her presence undeniable. She had little patience for introspection tonight.

Nevertheless, what made this night so distinct from all the others? My ever-discerning Beloved had always arranged the most captivating company, and my Inner Goddess had been both wooed by Olympian suitors and exalted by the Fey. These celestial and ethereal beings had murmured my name like an incantation, weaving their enchantments around me. Yet, in each of those encounters, my own trepidation had threatened to snuff out the spark before it could fully ignite. But tonight was unlike any other.

Tonight, I was not that girl, trembling under the weight of past indoctrinations and insecurities. Tonight, I had become something new—something splendid. I was the living embodiment of my Inner Goddess; her lips painted a brazen cherry red, her sapphire hair coiffed and curled to absolute perfection. My ankles remained primly crossed, but the toes of my top foot bounced with barely contained suspense. I could feel the promise of the night unfurling before me, rich with mystery and allure.

At last, the door’s handle turned with a slow and deliberate motion, the faintest squeak breaking the silence. Madame’s merry visage appeared in the gap between door and frame, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

“Your first guest has arrived,” she said, before retreating with the same poise with which she had entered.

And then, in strode my visitor: a jaunty sailor, his eyes bright as the sea and his grin as rakish as the wind.

His sun-kissed skin stretched taut over hoarded arms, each sinew a testament to the sea’s relentless call. His cap was perched at a dapper angle, framing a smile so wide and gleaming it could have rivaled the moonlight itself. My Inner Goddess, ever the connoisseur of charm, practically purred with jubilation. We had glimpsed this intrepid adventurer during the earlier mingling, though my shyness had kept me from more than a modest introduction, my cheeks betraying me with a coquettish blush. Yet now, here he stood, the very picture of daring, seeking nothing less than the tender surrender of my lips.

Our time was fleeting—I could already imagine Madame’s sharp knock at the door. But this sailor had spent his hard-earned, salt-soaked wages, and I was determined to make each coin worth its weight in memory. As I drew him into my arms, his essence enveloped me: the taste of brine and boundless skies, of uncharted waters and whispered promises. His strong arms enclosed me, his fingers tracing their way beneath the sheer fabric of my gown. With expert precision, his hand cupped the curve of my neck, drawing from me a sigh that mingled somewhere between surrender and bliss.

Somehow, we tumbled back onto the bed, his taut, lean frame pinning me beneath him as my legs instinctively curled around his narrow waist. My lips with fervent longing, my tongue venturing into the deepest reaches of his mouth as though I might uncover the hidden stories of untold adventures—secrets of uncharted seas and mysteries of far-off lands. His kiss was a tempest, wild and consuming, and I lost myself utterly in the storm of it.

All too soon, the sharp rap of knuckles against wood shattered our reverie. Madame’s cool and composed voice announced that our time had come to an end. I blinked, dazed and breathless, my heart racing from the intensity of what had just passed. How could mere minutes have slipped away so swiftly, leaving me trembling from nothing more than kisses?

With courtly grace, the sailor pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek, his lips warm and his gratitude earnest. A memory I shall carry with me to the ends of the earth, his touch seemed to whisper, imbued with tenderness and perhaps a touch of regret for our brief interlude. Then, with a fleeting smile, he slipped through the door, leaving it to close softly behind him.

I hastened to freshen up, dabbing a bit of rouge to my lips and tossing my bouncing curls into a more artful disarray. Returning to my place at the edge of the bed, I smoothed the fabric of my scandalously short skirt and folded my hands primly in my lap. My heart, however, would not be still. Who would be next? The thrill of the unknown, the delicious anticipation of whose face might peer around the door, sent a sublime shiver down my spine.

To my utter astonishment and greatest rejoicing, the beaming face of my Queen appeared around the corner, her voice bubbling with girlish excitement as she announced, in a playful whisper, that she had spent every penny of her allowance for this moment. I blinked in disbelief at her announcement, taken aback by the lavishness of her devotion. How could it be? I was not the only Lady of the Night and certainly unworthy of my Queen’s full attention. Yet there she stood, her raven ringlets framing her face like a dark halo, her fingers—so insistent in their movements—tracing a path around my hourglass waist.

I cupped her cheeks in my palms, my fingers curling along the delicate line of her spine at the base of her neck, pulling her honeyed lips to mine. I drank deeply from the nectar of her kiss, revering her essence, feeling as though I were touched by the divine. I vowed to do everything in my power to ensure her coin was well spent. My hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her body flush against mine. Our skin, heated and yearning, clung together as I spun her gracefully around, pressing her back onto the bed. With the fluidity of a sultry dance, I undulated against her, my fingers worshipping every curve, every inch of her being.

I kissed her until the world outside ceased to exist—until the only sound was the rhythmic beating of our hearts and the steady rise and fall of our chests. Absolute perfection. We were the only beings left on earth. And then, for the second time that night, the sharp rap at the door shattered our enchantment. With a resigned sigh, I pulled away from her lips, gazing down at her, my knees nestled firmly on either side of her hips.

She was a vision—her raven hair splayed about her like a queen’s crown, her cheeks flushed pink, her bosom heaving as she gasped for air. “I will have you again,” she promised, her velvety words wrapped in the iron rod of command.

I chuckled softly, a low, breathless sound, and nodded my head in acquiescence, yielding to her presence with a grace that spoke of devotion and desire.

Madam appeared, her presence like that of a commanding officer. Coin had been exchanged, the price paid for the tender kiss of my lips. But to my astonishment, it was not one, but two who entered and it was none other than Lady Lila and Baron Theodore, now seeking my attention. A rush of panic and unease, those old familiar companions, surged within me like a winter storm, only to be met head-on by the unshakable force of my Inner Goddess. I was a courtesan of the evening, a woman who knew no doubt or hesitation. With every art of pleasure at my command, I was sought after by the most esteemed of lords and ladies alike.

With a wave of her mighty wings, my Inner Goddess quashed any lingering trepidation, her strength filling me with confidence and grace. A genuine smile bloomed across my face, my spirit alive with the thrill of such an unexpected turn of events. My Inner Goddess bit her lip in ecstasy as my toes tingled at the thought of this new, delicious development.

The three of us knelt upon the bed, our arms wrapped around one another, and as I felt their warmth against me, my mind marveled at my own lack of hesitation.

As if guided by some unseen force, my hands rose to meet Lady Lila, trembling with impatience. My thoughts were a tangle of curiosity and longing—was her porcelain skin as velvety as it appeared? Were her chestnut locks finer than gossamer spun by moonlight? I pulled her close, my lips seeking hers with a confidence tempered by deference, hungry yet attentive, watching for even the faintest flicker of discontent in her gaze. None came. Instead, her lips met mine with an equal fervor, tasting of lilacs and wildflowers. Our breaths deepened, our bodies drawn together as if by the invisible threads of Aphrodite herself.

I surrendered to her kiss, letting her set the rhythm, my every movement attuned to her desire. When she released my lips, I blinked, momentarily lost in a whirl of euphoria, my gaze seeking hers—a silent question that her rich, luminous eyes answered without hesitation.

Turning to her Baron, I found his kisses to be a heady contrast. They were full and robust, like a vintage wine, his hands firm upon my waist, offering strength without a trace of domination. All the while, Lady Lil a’s delicate fingers roamed my bare arms, tracing the contours of my shoulders and toying with the rebellious curls that had slipped free of my coiffure. Each caress sent shivers cascading down my spine, igniting a symphony of sensations.

I laughed—a breathless, unexpected sound—delighted and overwhelmed by the duality of their attention. The richness of the moment was almost surreal, their combined touch weaving a tapestry of intimacy and wonder that I scarcely believed possible.

Knock, knock. The unrelenting summons sliced through the delicate web we had woven.

Collectively, we sighed, our shoulders sinking as we reluctantly parted, sitting back on our heels. The air hung heavy with the intoxicating aroma of passion and indulgence. My cheeks, still flushed, betrayed the thrilling bewilderment that danced in my eyes at the honor of their attention. And then, just as swiftly, they were gone. 

After a swift touch-up, I resumed my seat, though my breaths still came a touch faster than propriety might allow.

Lightheaded from the enchantments of my previous patrons, my heart leapt anew when Madam entered with an announcement that set my very soul aflutter: my next visitor had paid dearly for the privilege of worshipping me in the most intimate of ways. My Inner Goddess fluttered her fan furiously, all aflame with curiosity. Who could have offered such a princely sum for the chance to taste me, to drink deeply of my essence?

Her musings turned to a rapturous squeal as broad shoulders emerged, brushing the edges of the narrow doorway with effortless might. A towering presence of strength and fluid grace followed, his form exuding a quiet power that spoke of both wild resilience and refined nobility. His chest was expansive, as though it could hold the weight of the world, while his eyes sparkled with a playful glint, hinting at untamed adventures and secrets untold.

Lord Ursus moved with a deliberate, confident stride, each step a blend of rugged mystique and stately poise, the very embodiment of a storybook hero from some romantic epic.

Secretly, he had been the second gentleman to capture my attention during the mingle, though I had scarcely dared to imagine that I might have captured his in turn.

There he stood before me, his sturdy legs like steadfast pillars, a roguish smile peeking from behind his magnificent beard. A flicker of girlish nervousness danced across my skin, but my Inner Goddess swiftly quelled it, reminding me how precious and fleeting our time was. Rising precariously on my crimson heels, I found my head barely reached his broad shoulder. Gripping the front of his jacket lapels with both hands, I drew him closer, pressing the length of my body against his imposing frame, my lips tilting upward in silent invitation.

With a fervor that was both restrained and electrifying, the great Lord bent his head, his lips—surprisingly soft, almost reverent—capturing mine. A rush of warmth bloomed across my cheeks as his stout arms enveloped me, pulling me into an embrace that was as protective as it was consuming. My knees softened, melting into something exquisitely unsteady under his command.

With two decisive steps, Lord Ursus had me reclining gracefully onto my back. An instinctive part of me—the girl burdened by old insecurities—whispered resistance, urging me to retreat, to draw my knees together. But that voice was not mine any longer. I was no longer that timid soul; I was a true Courtesan, a mistress of desire and seduction. My guest had paid handsomely for these fleeting moments, and I intended to make every second unforgettable.

And so, with deliberate grace, I parted my legs, his rugged fingers brushing over the silken expanse of my inner thighs. My Inner Goddess gasped in breathless anticipation, poised on the precipice of desire, awaiting the tantalizing brush of his mighty beard. I had already reveled in its tickling, soft yet compelling touch against my cheeks, but now, I wondered what deeper pleasures awaited when its texture danced across far more tender skin.

It. Was. Exquisite.

A torrent of sensations surged through me, too numerous and too wondrous to name, as his fingers deftly shifted aside the delicate silk triangle bound by snowy ribbons. My most intimate self was unveiled to him, and with reverent purpose, Lord Ursus lowered his noble head. His breath, warm and teasing, caressed my exposed skin, and then—his lips and tongue descended, igniting an inferno at the very core of my being.

The luxurious cascade of his resplendent beard fanned my thighs, stoking fires that burned with reckless abandon. His great arms encircled my trembling legs, his strength anchoring me as he pulled me closer to his relentless devotion. Each stroke, each movement of his lips, was a worshipful hymn to the very essence of my soul, a reverie that unraveled me, body and spirit, until I was utterly undone.

Gods, I screamed and writhed, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of my desecration. My nails bit into the flesh of my clenched fists, a futile attempt to stifle my cries of unbridled gratitude. My right hand clung desperately to the bedding, the fabric of his jacket, searching for any tether to the mortal world as my Inner Goddess soared into the celestial heavens, far beyond my earthly confines.

Knock. Knock. Knock. (more insistent)
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Madam entered, her ever-composed demeanor faltering for only a moment as her gaze fell upon my scarlet heels suspended in the air, my face a vivid portrait of exquisite agony. There knelt Lord Ursus, still on his knees, his head buried in unwavering devotion.

“No!” wailed my Inner Goddess. “It’s too soon! It can’t possibly be time!”

But to my great dismay, Madam’s punctuality was a law unto itself, and I had other patrons keenly awaiting their turn, determined to claim what they had purchased.

With his beard glistening and a triumphant grin stretching across his face, Lord Ursus rose to his feet and bid me adieu.

I inhaled deeply, willing my trembling form to calm as I prepared myself for the next guest. My racing heart and yearning Inner Goddess protested, but one thing was certain—this evening was far from over.

A provocative surprise awaited me as Madam’s voice echoed through the room, announcing my final patrons for the evening—yes, patrons. My Inner Goddess could scarcely contain her astonishment; I was truly among the most revered and honored.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the Countess Serafina and Duke Thaddeus entered, their presence filling the room with an intoxicating energy. This time, I was prepared—no, anticipating—to offer myself fully for their pleasure and indulgence. As with all my distinguished guests, I guided the Countess and her Duke to my bed, our hands exploring the contours of each other’s forms with a languid grace. Their lips found mine, first in a gentle embrace, then with a growing urgency. The Countess’s kisses were like liquid gold, intoxicating and sweet, while the Duke’s masculine confidence poured through every touch. My Inner Goddess fluttered, caught between the elegance of their union and the thrilling complexity of this delicate, intricate dance.

I knew, without a doubt, that this encounter would be one my Inner Goddess would savor for a lifetime.

As Madam’s final summons echoed in the room, I graciously thanked my illustrious guests, my voice trembling with pleasure. When the door closed softly behind them, I collapsed back onto the bed, the remnants of our fervent encounter still dancing on my skin. My smile bloomed, intoxicated by the euphoria of the night. What a night, what a life, my Inner Goddess hummed, her voice a sweet, sing-song mantra, as my pulse quickened and my décolletage heaved with the breathless joy of it all. The most foolish, blissful grin spread across my face, and I embraced the delicious weight of the evening’s end.

The door swung open once more, and I shot upright in a rush of surprise. My Inner Goddess could scarcely catch her breath, anticipation bubbling through every inch of me. There, framed in the doorway, was the ecstatic, boyish face of My Love, his eyes alight with a salacious enthusiasm that made my heart skip a beat. I could almost hear his thoughts—“Tell me everything!”—and oh, he would certainly get the full recounting on our drive home. As much as I longed for him to join me on the bed, to dive into every hedonistic detail right then and there, I knew he would have to wait. The evening was still young, and the soirée was far from over.

After savoring delectable nibbles and quenching my thirst, I found myself once again in the grand chamber, surrounded by the intertwining bodies of gods and goddesses. Their forms sprawled across plush pallets, some leaning against the walls, eyes closed in ecstasy. Some lords, ladies, and celestials stood in a respectful perimeter, their gazes filled with a rapturous adoration, watching the sensual ruckus unfolding before them. It felt as though the stars themselves, the Moon Goddess, and all the fates had conspired to perfectly align this night—a vision of indulgence, of beauty, of passion beyond compare.

I found myself ensnared in the embrace of the Queen, her kisses ravenous as they cascaded from my lips down to the delicate curve of my throat, transforming into sharp, exhilarating sensations that made me squeak and press willingly into her. Wordlessly, she guided me—no, drove me—down onto the bare edge of the pallet, where bodies writhed in the throes of temptation around us. Her lips found their way to my sensitive skin, her attention lavishing my budding nipples as my fingers tangled in the long, silken strands of her raven-dark curls.

But what surpassed even that was the participation of the Viking Chieftain, taking his time to honor the Queen’s body as she adored mine. His powerful presence enveloped us, a force of nature. Her rosebud lips explored the wetness between my legs, and I arched into her, hips rising in ardent supplication. With each steady thrust of the Chieftain, the Queen’s movements grew more deliberate, her forceful yet sensual touch pulling me deeper into surrender as if offering me to the gods—old and new—in an act of reverence.

When the Queen had her fill, the Chieftain took his turn. His attention was no less fervent—his lips and tongue a clever instrument of worship, his every movement designed to dismantle my very being until all I could offer were cries of bliss.

My Inner Goddess could have lost herself in this whirlwind for hours, giving and receiving from every soul that dared approach, including my indomitable Love, intoxicated by the shared energy. But the sensible side of me—the part not entirely overwhelmed by the magic of the evening—managed to pull me back. I rejoined the throng, my heart quickening, my laughter rising in warbled notes as I mingled with my companions, the air thick with lust, merriment, and a touch of enchantment.

After some time, I wandered into a semi-private alcove and discovered none other than the goddess Diana, applying her dominant skills to all who sought her particular expertise. I was nibbling on grapes, absorbed in the scene before me, as Diana’s implement caressed the volunteer before her, each stroke drawing gasps and surrender. I watched, entranced and bewildered, as the evening unfolded in ways I couldn’t have imagined. It was all so surreal, and I half-expected to wake at any moment, left with only the lingering sensation of what might have been.

Nevertheless, having caught the eye of the stunning Diana, she insisted I take my place at her next available opening. The third stroke of her implement (barely a four on my one-to-ten scale) was just enough to make me fully aware that this was no dream.

With my heart lighter than air, I surrendered to my position, the supple curve of my body unfolding as each thud, caress, and sharp crack melted me deeper into the moment. My muscles relaxed like wax beneath a summer sunbeam, and with each breath, I took a slow, luxurious draw. The porcelain of my skin bloomed into a brilliant, Christmasy red, soothed by Diana’s cool fingers that knew the art of pleasure and patience. I could have drifted into sleep, so serene was the sensation of utter devotion her touch inspired. Every fiber of my being yielded to her skill, every whisper of her ministrations weaving a tapestry of languid bliss.

The air around me swirled with soft light and music, the gentle hum of a cosmic harmony vibrating through me as Diana’s sultry voice whispered low in my ear. The remaining threads of my conscious mind whispered that our time together was drawing to an end. A silly grin—wild and surreal—painted my face, overwhelmed by the pure magic of the evening. Diana, resetting the space for her next supplicant, left me basking in the afterglow of what had just transpired.

And then it began—the uncontrollable tremors—shaking through my hands, spiraling up my arms and shoulders, diffusing through my body like a fog on a cool morning. It was a familiar reaction, a release of energy that often followed the most intense of experiences. This, however, was different. My body felt weightless, my soul afloat, and my Inner Goddess danced in wondrous bliss. But my physical form had caught Diana’s expert attention once again. Despite my protestations that I was fine, she wrapped me in a blanket as soft as bunny down, enveloping me in a tender embrace. She cradled me on the bed, holding me until the tremors subsided, until I lay there in a state of quiet, almost sleepy contentment.

Gratitude and warmth swelled within me—thankfulness for Diana’s incomparable skill, for her deep understanding of my unspoken needs, and for the sacred space she had created where I could truly surrender. I felt a shimmering warmth for Madam, ever watchful, her quiet presence the guardian angel of the night, ensuring all remained in perfect harmony. My heart reached out in silent thanks to the exquisite hostess, whose magnificent home had been opened with such elegance and extravagance, inviting the evening’s enchantment to take root, creating a sanctuary of wonder. And then, my Beloved—his boyish grin tugging at my heart with a magnetic force, pulling me into his arms as if I were the very air he breathed.

As I reentered the throng, I realized that in that very moment, with the night unfurling like a dark velvet cloak around me, I could have died blissfully, without a single regret. Yet, my Inner Goddess whispered softly in my ear, reminding me that this was but the beginning—a glittering prologue to the mysteries of the season. Who could know what wondrous delights would unfold in the days to come, as the night itself seemed to stretch endlessly, brimming with promises yet unspoken?

Until next time, XO. Elsie