Year of the Inner Goddess

November 2025 – Listen Here

I nestled deeper into Jack’s arms, our limbs languidly entwined, the flickering light of the screen casting its pale sorcery across our bodies. Though my gaze rested upon the tale before us, my thoughts slipped elsewhere – into umbral corridors, where memory prowled, unrepentant and sinfully sweet.

My Inner Goddess arched a knowing brow, puckishly releasing image after blasphemous image of the weekend’s impious reverie. Heat pricked my cheeks. Saints preserve me, Olympus itself would demand tribute for the havoc Jack and his companions had wrought upon my body. 

– The Woodsman had been there, pertinacious and perfect, moving in uncanny concord with Jack. Two wolfish conspirators plying their nocturnal art upon every fevered inch of my flesh while I hovered between heaven and hell.

– I had been laid bare beneath a cathedral of stars, utterly offered to the Moon Goddess herself. Meanwhile, Amphictyonis pressed her sharp teeth into my skin, marking me with an erebean constellation before her mouth descended, her elegant fingers parting me with reverent fastidiousness as her long tongue lapped and devoured my soul. And then the others came, one by one, joining us in a sweat-slicked procession of sin, bodies linking in a shameless, breathless chain of hedonistic worship. I shuddered even now, toes curling at the memory, a whimper catching in my throat.

– Nor had it all been frenzy and ruin. With Jack, there were hours spun of quiet silk, where pleasure whispered against a lover’s throat, our breaths weaving a quiet universe meant for two. And then there were the others, raw, devastating, stars exploding behind our eyes as if the gates of heaven itself had been torn open just to hear us break and bloom in each other’s arms.

Gods, there would be debts to pay for such delights. I would owe the Demigod a new washer, perhaps an entire apothecary of lye and soaproot, before the heavens deemed me absolved for the mountains of linens my sweat-slicked body had anointed in those hallowed hours.

Cuddled in his arms, a delicious ache throbbed low…a honeyed pulse that reminded me my apex, still tender from our feral rites, belonged to no mundane world. A slow, secret smile unfurled across my lips, my Inner Goddess offering a purr of satisfaction. I let my lashes fall, shuttering the mortal realm from view, and allowed the most recent memories to spill over me like consecrated oil, gilding my thoughts just as pleasure had once undressed my soul.

A ribboned brassiere, sable as the stroke of a moonless hour, had caught the eye of the Demigod in the photograph I had sent weeks in advance. He had requested…his deep voice rumbling even over text…that I wear it for his pleasure when next our paths crossed. My bratty Inner Goddess whispered: “If we feel like it.” We swore no oaths. Yet, there I was, standing before Jack’s dresser, my assigned drawer open like a temple chest, lifting that elaborate confection of satin and lace.

The Great Hall had hummed with easy camaraderie – Jack, the Demigod, Caius, and Eos, sprawled in indolent leisure. Did I dare swathe myself in such enticing trappings and present my body as an offering? Or remain in my oversized sweater, feigning innocence?

It was never truly a question.

In a breath, the bit of lace and satin was clasped against my spine, and as if conjured by a wicked spell, I found myself before the lounging Demigod…shoulders drawn back, breasts lifted for his admiration. The slow, sinful grin that unfurled across his face promised ruination. His hands claimed me, pulling me atop him, his mouth searing mine with a kiss that unmade thought. I broke away only to guide him toward the bedchamber, leaving the door wide…a sultry invitation for Jack and our other guests to follow in due course.

His growl…low, barbaric…pierced straight through me. Hazel eyes wide, I sank onto the edge of the bed. The Demigod stripped away my leggings with ruthless efficiency. Though I half-expected him to linger upon the rose-petal lace between my thighs, he discarded it as though it were nothing more than a barrier between predator and feast.

Then he had me.

On his knees, he yanked me to the brink of the mattress, mouth descending before I could form a single plea. A startled sound escaped me and dissolved at once into helpless, shaking gratitude. My pleasure, still shimmering from the morning’s conquests with Jack, surged to a fevered pitch as the Demigod’s tongue charted delirious circles through slick, forbidden territory. His teeth set sparks along the tender insides of my thighs; his imprisoning arms engulfing my thighs, fingers digging into vulnerable flesh, holding me open, defenseless, weak.

I seized a pillow, smothering my cries, half expecting Jack to tear it away and murmur his dark insistence that I “let it all out.” But embarrassed by the magnitude, I could not. Every stroke of tongue, every wicked nip, drove me closer to hysteria. I shattered…splintering, reforming, splintering again…until even the earth beneath us felt perilously thin.

Then came his fingers.

Those despotic instruments of ecliptic cruelty plunged deep, curling within, not coaxing but commanding. My body bowed around his hand, spine arched like a bowstring ready to sing. Nectar broke from me in a flood so violent I feared some celestial dam had ruptured, warm rivers gliding over my hips, my ribs, racing down my sternum to my throat and cascading over my shoulders as I screamed my surrender.

He drank from me again…mouth sealing over my apex, swallowing every tremor of my desecration. I could scarcely breathe, hardly open my eyes, as he shifted with lupine grace, his left hand replacing the right with equal devastation. My Inner Goddess howled her ascendance, and somewhere in the haze, I wondered how much Jack was capturing on his device. How many times would he watch the sweet, savage destruction and then claim me in the aftermath and revel in the knowledge of all that was and would ever be.

And then, just as my soul trembled on the edge of collapse, the Demigod covered himself, positioned the crowned head of him at my still recovering slit. I was a glistening, trembling wreckage, a creature of molten nerve and shattered will, and the Demigod knew it…knew it well…and had only just begun his relentless conquest.

The onslaught was merciless…an exquisitely brutal pageant of flesh and will. He drove into me with such punishing precision that for one fractured instant, I wondered whether, after a weekend steeped in delirious hedonism, I had broken my body, my furthermost inner gate crying out in protest and discouragement, begging for reprieve. Yet the notion of desisting, of pleading for a ceasefire, evaporated the moment his immense body descended, his barrel chest sealing me beneath him, heat and sinew and inexorable strength. His hot breath skated along the delicate whorl of my ear, and whatever feeble sensibilities remained were drowned beneath the ancient, vandalous hunger he roused in me. Pacing himself, the Demigod dragged the bulbous crown of his god-wrought length, grinding against that hidden, jeweled citadel within me, striking it as though he sought to unseal some ancient sanctum barred to all mortal trespass. 

A low, corrupted sound tore from my throat as he struck that secret locus again, again, and again, until my spine bowed like a hunting bow drawn to breaking. My nails raked his back in desperate, delirious apology for how utterly I wanted the violation of it, every feral, impassive inch of him undoing sense and name and breath.

There was nothing human in the way he claimed me; nothing gentle in the way I yielded. We were an eviscerating liturgy made flesh…panting, fevered, ablaze with a hunger older than language.

My floodgates, already weakened from earlier devastations, obeyed without dignity. The sheets were drenched…utterly, ruinously baptized with my offering. The air was thick with it, humid with hunger, and I could do nothing but let him plunder.

The barrage relented, yet no mercy followed…merely a languorous, devouring ache that insinuated itself through the very bastion of my composure. I felt it then: every throbbing inch of him, each corded vein beating a wicked tattoo inside me. My breath hitched, for it seemed he marked me from within…branding me with a rhythm no mortal tongue or inked pen could transcribe. 

In a flushed moment, I glimpsed beyond the Demigod’s towering biceps, seeking even a spark of Jack’s gaze at the threshold, half certain my beloved rogue lingered there, delighting in my undoing. Yet the space remained empty. My Inner Goddess pouted, chafing that he could not witness the Demigod’s ravaging of me…each ironbound stroke a fire burning, a desecration I longed for him to behold now that I had tasted even a fleeting moment beneath the Demigod.

Before I could comment or call out for Jack, the Demigod shifted his assault, his fingers returning with cataclysmic speed. They curled inside me, exacting every drop of nectar, folding my body into indecent shapes, wringing me out as though I were a silk cloth saturated past reason. I sobbed…soundless, breathless…until I could endure no more. I tapped his shoulder, too winded to speak, lungs burning with the need for air.

When I finally rasped, “Let me ride you…” his face broke into a boyish, sinful light, a gladiator granted a new arena.

He withdrew, and the slick sound of his departure was obscene poetry. He reclined upon his back, legs parted in regal invitation, his cenotaph rising like some forbidden spire toward the ceiling beams. I climbed astride him on limbs humming with exhaustion, impaling myself upon that obsidian structure. A gasp…an ashborne hymn…tore from me. My aching, pliant core thrashed and surrendered in equal measure, clinging to him like a drowning creature to a mast lashed by a pitiless storm, every pulse a riot of need. Pain, pleasure, delirium…braided so tightly that my Inner Goddess drank them as ambrosia, her wings igniting with lunatic power.

What followed defies the grasp of mortal tongue, destined to dwell only in myth, memory, and the secret chambers of the flesh. 

I dismounted on shaking legs, laughter snagging in my throat…dry as a desert wind. My body demanded water, and my lips demanded Jack. Making my excuse to the panting Demigod, I slipped into the adjoining Great Hall, the Demigod’s scent clinging to my thighs like a forbidden bouquet. In the Great Hall, Jack reclined in his oversized armchair. The world shrank to the slow, hypnotic rise and fall of his chest as I approached on fluttering tiptoes. One stolen kiss…sharp, salting the air with need…was all it took to lure him from his throne. His hand found mine, and I felt the subtle tremor of anticipation threading through his veins, a sibilating promise of the storm to come.

Caias and Eos followed in our wake, conspirators in the afternoon’s wayward design, their eyes glinting with mischief and latent fire. Heat pressed in from every angle, urging my Inner Goddess to unfurl her wings, to revel in the exquisite chaos awaiting her. Beside the bed, Jack’s hand lingered at my back, anchoring himself to the gravity of me; the simple contact was a spark, a flare threatening to ignite everything in its path.

And in that hush, thick with expectation and perfumed with sin, I knew there would be no restraint, only the slow, decadent ruin we had chosen to conjure together.

Jack rehung the swing, an infernal contraption of leather straps and sinful geometry. My Inner Goddess all but pirouetted, wild with anticipation to resurrect the shadows of Friday night’s madness. The men worked to position me, though my quivering impatience made their task perilous. I attempted to steady my breath and failed, until once more I hung between heaven and earth, suspended in wicked equilibrium.

The room fell hush.

The air tightened.

Desire, darker than incense smoke, torsed around us all.

And then…hands upon my hips, breath at my throat…our revelry began again.

There came a moment, glorious, annihilating, when I seemed no longer a creature of earth at all, but some star-flung phenomenon, bursting like a supernova beneath the Demigod’s tenacious rhythm. I shattered again and again, my spine bowing, my cry of victory snatched from me as Jack claimed it, his glory a lustful, familiar weight pressing deep into the hollow of my throat. My body convulsed as I became a living conduit of chaos and want as my body swung and jerked between the two males. Somewhere in that wicked blur, they changed places, a swift, breathless exchange, and my body answered with another cataclysmic flood, the floor beneath us slick with my surrender.

A sound…low, wanton, utterly unholy…dragged my gaze sideways, and there upon the bed Eos was sprawled like a decadent painting come to life, devoting her lips and hands to the sentience rising before her. Yet her eyes, half-lidded, feline, remained on me, watching my fall from grace with a hunger that sent my Inner Goddess into a frenzy of velvet-clad wickedness. Tenderness be damned; I yielded to the next cataclysm with a body made only for rapture.

And there, in the throes of obdurate hedonism, my Inner Goddess unfurled, wings stretching wide to drink in the reckless abandon of it all…every gasp, every tremor, every shuddering surrender feeding her, sharpening her claws of bloodfire. In that suspended, perfumed hush, I was neither mistress nor supplicant. I was devotion made flesh, a vessel for carnage and intoxication alike, and I would not…could not…deny it.

Released from the trappings of the swing, the three of us flowed to join Caius and Eos upon the bed. Soon we were fully entwined across the vast expanse, bodies overlapping, senses fraying at the edges. Eos and I moved in licentious, unspoken accord, our mouths and fingers mapping every inch of Caius, coaxing, bending, guiding him to our will. Meanwhile, Jack claimed my hips with grimfast authority, fingers curling possessively, anchoring me as I melted into him, parting my thighs just a whisper more so that the impact of our collision, might detonate every remaining nerve. 

My Inner Goddess exulted as my tongue greeted one lover even while Jack drew me deeper into the vortex of his need. The Demigod wielded his skill like a weapon, pouring ardor into the unraveling of Eos, coaxing her into shivering surrender. Breath came tattered, muscles riven and released in shivering unison, and the boudoir seemed to pulse, thick with a tapestry of sin-drenched abandon. If euphoria could take form, it was this tempest of bodies, a conflagration of will and want, endless and insatiable.

My attention fractured in three directions, each pulling me deeper into heady, untamed abandon. Eos writhed beneath the Demigod’s impetuous insistence, her moans and cries a siren’s hymn, pale skin stark against the amethyst bedding, every arch and shiver a portrait of ungoverned desire. With intractable choreography, the Demigod drawing shuddering wails from her lips, revering each perfectly sculpted breast before retreating to her secret sanctum, observing with voidborne precision as she shattered beneath the cruelty of his inundating touch. I found myself hypnotized, unable to wrench my gaze from the radiant goddess.

At the same time, Caius adjured my lips, an immense, looming presence that pulled me forward, my throat straining to drink in every inch of him, every commanding tremor of his dominion. His hand braced at the crown of my head, drool tracing a glistening sigil to my ravenous ministrations. My Inner Goddess trilled, claws and wings extended, determined to enthrall him, to drive him to the jagged precipice of his own undoing.

And then there was Jack, ruthbound and frantic, his need hammering into me with a wild, almost violent cadence, forcing me to relinquish my lips from Caius and bury my cries into the curve of Caius’ thigh, my hand moving in fervent imitation of my lips around Caius’ bulging sword. Jack was a blinding fury, the pounding of our bodies mirrored just inches away by the Demigod and Eos. Between Jack and me, I could feel our twin tides swell, the thread of our shared undoing inevitable, sacred, and overwhelming. My hips thrust back to meet Jack’s adamantine assault as my hand worked over Caius, rising and falling with fevered insistence. And then I screamed, forehead pressed to Caius’ thigh, Jack’s cries entwining with my own. Fire consumed us all, a maelstrom of bodies, need, and ungovernable desire.

Jack claimed me with a rapacious imprecation, driving deep and sure, each thrust a spark that ignited every nerve in a blaze of joint surrender and defiant pleasure. My jaw ached from the feral clench of my teeth, but even that pain was a sweet punctuation to the delirium spiralling through me. My core contracted around him, a tempest of tremors, pulses lashing like lightning across velvet skies, each wave a proof of our shared frenzy.

It was ravaging, incinerating, and unapologetically decadent, a storm that left me ragged, quivering, and utterly awake to every inch of sensation. Breath caught and threadbare, I could feel my Inner Goddess soaring, wings stretching wide in jubilant conquest, drinking in the audacity of our convergence. I would have given anything…my mind, my will, my very soul…to stay suspended in that ravishing, envious ecstasy forever.

When my vision cleared, the Demigod lay reclined just inches away, Eos’s silken hair spilling over his thighs as she coaxed him ever higher and higher, her ministrations precise, almost sacred in their beastly grace. Jack released me, eyes glimmering, chest heaving, and my Inner Goddess quirked a lip in simmering apotheosis. One hand still wrapped around Caius, I watched Eos with ravenous glee, my fingers tracing the line of the Demigod’s straining thigh, slipping beneath her bobbing lips, to caress the tightening jewels of his body, joining Eos in her sacrosanct labor. 

The Demigod’s vast body strained, every muscle carved in chthonic tension, until, with a sound caught somewhere between a demon’s growl and a priest’s lament, he yielded, undone by her merciless skill and the unremitting grip of our combined hands. Even as he shuddered, his body a wracked vibration, Eos did not relent, intent on drawing forth every last convulsive drop from his monumental form, his essence coating her fingers like strings of opaline moonstones. Bewitched, I could only watch, reveling in the singular thrill of serving not as sole enchantress, but as co-conspirator in his glorious ruin.

And then it was over. I found myself swaying somewhere between relief and the strange ache of sadness that it had ended, even as my stomach grumbled its insistent demand for sustenance. Gods of Olympus. As we refreshed and dressed, I wondered, yet again, what cosmic folly or rich blessing had brought such profane wonder and cherished friendship into my life.

And then followed sweet communion, as if nothing had transpired. We curled together on the couch, bowls of chili or melange nibbles balanced on our laps, our laughter ringing through the Great Hall like bells in a sacred ritual. I could do nothing but smile, my body still humming from its recent surrender, my heart swelling with a warmth I had not known I could hold. 

So this was happiness, this was love, and communion, and safety, trust, friendship, all folded together in a moment of impossible perfection. I blew gently on my chili, struggling to hold back tears as my emotions threatened to overwhelm me, nearly as potent as the climactic fire that had consumed us only moments before. 

I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring it, the laughter, the touch, the unspoken understanding, and allowed myself to drift as the celestial afterglow wrapped and coiled about me. In that stillness, my heart sang a private hymn of thanksgiving for the fire, the pulse, the relentless drive.

In that suspended heartbeat, I understood: the wanton indulgences of the weekend had reshaped and polished me anew, leaving me less broken, more sovereign. Body and soul fused into a single, humming entity of quiet, unyielding power. Steadying my pulse, I breathed a benediction into the setting sun, savoring the residual warmth as it echoed through my soul.

And I nestled my head against Jack’s chest, my smile never leaving my lips.

Until next time, XO. Elsie