"Hades will see you now."
Though I had spent the last hour waiting for those words, I still jumped a little in my seat when they broke the silence so suddenly. Getting to my feet, I trailed the secretary towards the back of the building while my stomach twisted in knots. Some inner wisdom forced me to keep my chin up, to focus on this crucial task and not the fact that Stephen's name was a brokenhearted chant in my head.
Disgusting wealth dripped from every inch of the mansion. Everything seemed to be furnished in leather and black marble, and I felt sure some of the antiques were older than my mother. But none of it mattered, the trinkets or the money, when their owner dealt so casually with human lives.
The secretary's shoes made sharp clicks on the floor as she walked, reminding me unnervingly of a clock ticking down, and I wondered idly if the stilettos were for Hades' benefit or if they were her own personal choice. We stopped suddenly in front of a heavy double door that she quickly ushered me inside, not bothering to give me a more than a bored glance when I passed.
So I strode alone into the large office and the door shut quietly behind me, the secretary's heels clicking again outside before finally fading away. My shoulders kept themselves carefully postured and my hands were clasped respectfully, though I had never felt more alone or scared in my entire life. I pushed that fear down, steeling myself while I sized up the man behind the desk, aware of just how perfectly I would have to play this to have any hope of success.
"Good afternoon," he said in a deep, indifferent voice. "Please have a seat."
I crossed over to the solitary chair and raised my eyes to his face. Hades was just as dark and intimidating as I had heard my whole life. Tall, even when sitting down, with a black beard and an expensive suit. No tie. He regarded me with a dark and uninterested gaze.
"What can I do for you?"
I kept my voice steady and replied, "I am here to ask for a life."
"Whose?" he asked, flipping a pen back and forth between two fingers.
"A friend. Stephen Doss."
His nose twitched slightly. "Just a friend?"
"A… boyfriend," I admitted.
"Ahh. And he has passed?" His eyes flicked quickly to the clock on the wall and back to me, and I mentally cursed the fates for my poor timing. It was the end of the afternoon on a Friday.
"If he has not yet," I said, trying to keep desperation out of my voice, "he will soon. He's one of the sailors from the shipwreck today, you might have seen it on TV."
"Yes, I have. My condolences. You love him, I suppose."
I worked my fingers tightly against each other, forcing myself to ignore Hades' cavalier attitude. "Yes, I do love him, but I am not stupid enough to think that empathy alone would persuade you to grant my request." I lifted my chin and looked him square in the eyes. "I'm here with an offering."
His gaze flicked again to the infernal clock. "I'm listening."
"The virginity of a Goddess."
His eyes snapped back to me, the pen instantly halting its movement.
"And who are you," he asked slowly, "to have access to such a thing?"
"I am Demeter's daughter, and I am a virgin."
The heat in my cheeks threatened to shake me, so I just kept my gaze steady and honest. Hades leaned back in his chair, pen moving again, considering.
"Virginity is hardly rare," he finally said.
"But the virginity of a Goddess is. How often does that come about? Once every five hundred years? Don't try to undercut me now, Mr. Hades."
The corner of his mouth twitched up. "What will your young man think of you selling your body for him?"
"My young man need never know."
"You mother as well, I expect."
"I would greatly prefer that she never know," I demurred. She would be absolutely incensed to learn that I'd done this, but I had no power to keep his mouth shut.
"So. You are offering me a secret, one night stand, in exchange for your boyfriend's life." He stroked his beard along the jaw a few times back and forth before asking me thoughtfully, "How old are you?"
"Twenty-two."
Ridiculously old to still be a virgin, but my mother had impressed upon me the importance of archaic traditions, and I had kept it tucked away in my pocket as long as I could, just in case. I kept my hands still and tried to look as appealing as I could given the circumstances. The silence was nearly unbearable while he looked between me, the pen in his hand, and the clock, his face absolutely unreadable.
"I accept," he said finally, "on one condition. You must meet your end of the bargain first. I don't want your young man accidentally stealing what's mine upon his return."
I swallowed. "I'm ready now." Maybe if I was lucky he would bend me over this desk and finish it quickly.
"I can be available in half an hour," he offered.
"Then I accept."
Our hands met across the desk, his warm fingers enveloping mine and making me realize how cold I had become.
If there is an opposite of a relaxing bath, that is the bath I took, roughly scrubbing myself down and splashing the soap residue off in the water. Hades' secretary had shown me to his suite on the top floor of the building and indicated the steaming tub that was somehow already prepared for me, which I made use of for my own sake. There had been no time to shower before my mad dash downtown to Hades' office. I was already embarrassed enough by this whole situation, and I didn't want to add "stinky" to the list.
I toweled myself off quickly and donned the black satin robe that had been laid out for me. Thank goodness it wasn't white, that imagery would be unbearable. The material stuck to my skin, and I soon realized the poor job I had done drying my body. I ripped the garment off and hurriedly went back over my folds and crevices until I no longer felt sticky.
The suite was just as grand and intimidating as the man. Not that it meant much to me, having grown up in Demeter's own magnificent house. My bare feet patted quietly on the marble as I crossed over to the bedroom. It was enormous, with black, fabric draped walls surrounding the most intimidating four poster I had ever seen. I sat myself nervously on the edge of the bed, mouth suddenly dry, and tried to decide what position to be in when he entered. Perhaps an elegant off-the-corner with my legs crossed. Or standing at the window, and only turning to look at him after he closed the door.
I found I was unable to do anything but pace back and forth across the room, the cool floor providing little relief to the embarrassment scorching its way through me.
Though I didn't doubt for a second that Stephen's life was worth my sacrifice, the idea of my plan was so much easier than the execution. I would have traded my own life for his, and this one night was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Just a short interval of sacrifice among the many long and joyful years that we would have together. If worst came to worst, I could just close my eyes and pretend Hades was Stephen. It wouldn't matter, I told myself, that my body was about to experience strange things with a strange man. My brain was capable of compartmentalization. I could detach from myself and commit nothing to memory, so it would be all just a vague thought by morning.
Well, mentally, that is. But would there be some kind of physical reminder in the morning? Soreness, or a feeling of being dirty, or... Oh, gods. What if he was expecting to be rough with me? Get off on treating Demeter's daughter like some prostitute, or even, unthinkably, abuse me in some way?
Footsteps sounded in the hall, jolting fear through my belly. I darted back to perch on the bed, all plans of elegance lost, and had just enough time to rest my hands unnaturally on my knees before the door opened with a quiet click. Immediately I bolted to my feet, heart hammering.
The agonizing space of time where we just stood there looking at each other, in reality no more than a few seconds, seemed to stretch on. I just knew he was about to say something uncomfortable or mortify me with a sexual command, so I simply did the first thing I could think of that would give me any little bit of control. I untied my robe and let it drop to the floor.
Hades' eyes lowered to my body, surveying me up and down while I kept my hands at my sides and my head high. He shoved the door closed behind him without looking and crossed over to the bathroom. I just stood there naked and watched him silently turn off every light in the suite until he got to the lamp beside the bed and extinguished that, too. We were suddenly in total blackness.
"What are you doing?" I asked, caught completely off guard.
"I'm attempting to give you a small amount of privacy," his voice sounded from a few feet away. I heard the friction of material as clothes were removed and fell to the floor, then silence.
"Don't you want to look?" I asked incredulously.
"I did look."
Out of nowhere Hades took my hand, causing me to start in surprise. But his fingers were warm and steady, and he guided me over to sit beside him on the bed. I hoped fervently that he couldn't feel the trembles running through my hand that I couldn't seem to stop.
"Lie back."
I obeyed, settling myself straight back on the bed and bracing for the worst. The mattress beside me dipped when he stretched out next to me, hot, bare skin connecting with the side of my body. I was just barely able to squash a humiliating yelp of surprise when he hooked an arm around me, but he simply drew me farther onto the bed so that my legs weren't dangling over the edge. I swallowed, trying not to think about how easily he'd moved me, and consequently how easily he could overpower me. But strength was not cruelty, and he still hadn't given me a reason to be afraid.
"What's your name?" he asked quietly.
His hand began to stroke my quivering body. They were slow, steady movements, like someone petting a horse. Like someone calming a horse, I corrected myself.
"Persephone."
"Persephone," he repeated slowly, sending an awful pinch of goosebumps over my skin. His palm traveled along my stomach, across my breasts, down my arm, in a steady pressure as if he were trying to map out my form by touch.
"What are you doing?" I whispered.
"Getting you ready," he replied with a definite note of humor in his voice.
"I am ready."
There was a prolonged silence then, but his hand did not stop its path up and down my hip.
"You are ready for a quick and horrible experience. You are not ready for me."
Anger sparked in me because I had no answer to that. He was annoyingly perceptive, and infuriatingly... Thoughtful? Malicious? What was the word for a man willing to buy sex but unwilling to keep it transitionary? I sighed in resignation and closed my eyes, trying to imagine his hand was Stephen's. His palm travelled steadily down my thigh, and then slower up the inside of the other. Hot breath puffed against my neck, and my eyes fluttered open again. Not that there was anything to see in the dark, but as his mouth made contact with my skin, every nerve in my body went alert. Surely he could feel my erratic heartbeat against his lips. His fingers came up to play with my nipple at the same time that I could feel his tongue on my neck, and awareness instantly washed over my body.
I shifted my legs, uncomfortable in that feeling. I had prepared myself for fear, repulsion, and even pain. I had not prepared for… whatever this was. My stomach fell in the strangest way, a warm, weighted dip. He wouldn't stop touching my traitorous nipple, and heated pressure continued to diffuse across my pelvis, and embarrassingly down between my legs. I pressed them together, hoping to fight back the flow of blood. My other breast was tended to in the same manner, the sensations stabbing so fiercely through me that I had no concept of the actual movements of his fingers, but I was sure that if I could see anything I would be absolutely mortified to watch him manipulate my body.
He withdrew from my side without warning, and I felt the mattress sink around the area of my feet. Without ceremony, large hands pushed my legs up and apart, keeping a solid pressure on the backs of my thighs so I couldn't relax them back down. I was breathing quick, shallow breaths, trying not to fight my knees being pressed back towards my belly, and failing to comprehend why he would want to start in this humiliating position. Something nuzzled my entrance and I fisted the sheets, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing for the loss of my virginity.
I gasped when his tongue suddenly slid up the middle of me, both relieved and dismayed. I wanted to protest about how unnecessary this was, how it had nothing to do with our bargain, but I made myself clamp my jaw shut. I had technically agreed to this, though every minute of delay only made me hate myself for offering a deal so generously vague.
He seemed to lick me aimlessly, as if he wasn't searching for anything specific and only wanted to show off the fact that he could. I had my eyes shut again, picturing Stephen and trying to relax. Stephen, with his long, dirty blond hair and that teasing smile. Stephen with his face between my legs, performing the act I'd only read about in books. Stephen, enveloping my clit with his lips, and- Oh, no.
My hips jerked up of their own accord, and I mentally cursed myself for the movement. Whatever Hades was doing felt like it was rearranging my insides, tightening and swelling and burning, and I wasn't sure how to fight against a sensation so compelling.
I was so lost in the foreign feeling, and in keeping quiet, that it took me a few moments to notice that he had released one of my legs to push a finger inside me. That part wasn't pleasurable. If anything it was annoying, and slightly painful. Before long another finger joined the first, and I turned my face to the side, wishing I could prevent further embarrassment and hoping dismally that I was not as wet as I felt I was. In and out they worked, stroking and pressing against my inner parts. The sensations were sometimes sharp, sometimes dull, and always overshadowed by the inescapable weight in my pelvis, the way everything was becoming so hot and achy.
After concentrating for so long on the motion of his fingers – stretching me, I suddenly realized – the speed of my arousal took me by surprise. When had he started this rhythm that was scorching through my belly? Hades was murdering my self control, somehow forcing my inner muscles to clench and relax around his fingers, and all of a sudden there was nothing I could do but quickly focus all of my efforts on not cumming. I tried to keep my breathing deep and steady, tried to think about my mother, Stephen, anything but what a relief it would be to let myself release. His tongue became more insistent, the movements smaller, and a warning tingle started to race across my skin. I scrapped my first plan and instead decided to cum as silently as I could. Maybe he wouldn't even notice.
My orgasm washed over me while I kept my teeth clamped together. I breathed through it, mentally congratulating myself for not uttering a single noise. When the contractions had slowed, along with that damned mouth, Hades finally pulled away and removed his fingers. I felt him climb up my body until his breath puffed against my neck once again. He paused there, hovering over me like he wanted to say something, and I waited in apprehension. All he had to do was mock me for cumming and I would be thoroughly humiliated.
Instead he pushed what was unmistakably his dick slightly into my wetness, surprising me with how slow and careful he was. I felt him stretch me inch by inch, and had just managed to convince myself it would be alright when pain suddenly flared up and knocked my breath away. He must have felt me tense because he immediately stilled halfway inside.
"Does this hurt?"
"It's not too bad," I lied.
He pulled back slightly and then rocked forward again, making me suck in a sharp breath. It wasn't as bad as the first time, but the continuation of pain was still enough to make my eyes water. I clenched my hands into fists and silently let the tears run down my face, because he couldn't see them anyway.
Hades shifted above me, inexplicably keeping to that slow in and out process until he was nudging the back of my insides and the pain had dulled to a strong discomfort. I discreetly wiped away a tear that was tickling my ear, hoping he would be done soon and I could escape from this. Instead, to my immense frustration, he eased himself out and rolled onto the bed beside me.
"I want you to get on top."
I sat up and vaguely noticed my trembling had returned. "I'm not... I don't know if I will be any good at that," I blurted out honestly.
"Let's find out."
I could scarcely imagine how the night could get more embarrassing. Hades was just as bad as everyone said, basically laughing at me and finding out how many new things he could watch me fumble in my ignorance. Certainly a gentleman would have gotten this over with by now. I realized in despair that we had not agreed on a length of time or number of services. He could conceivably keep me here all night, maybe even being used by more than just him, and still fall within the parameters of losing my virginity.
This was exactly why you had to be utterly desperate to make a bargain with a god.
Steeling myself for what I prayed was the final, final portion of my ordeal, I braced myself on what I hoped was his chest with my hands and swung my leg over him. His unnaturally warm hands landed on my hips, guiding me towards the position he wanted, and it was a relief that I didn't have to figure out the joining up. He angled himself into me, and I carefully settled down onto him until my backside rested on his hips.
It was surreal to actually be sitting on top of Hades, his dick fully inside me and casting a strange feeling of irreverence over the whole scene. Though I supposed there was nothing sacred about a sex bargain, god or not. I shifted my fingers, trying to stabilize myself without disturbing the fuzzy layer of hair across his chest, and experimentally lifted and lowered my hips. The movement felt disappointingly unnatural, and my stomach sank with the knowledge that I would only humiliate myself further by getting tired quickly.
Hades seemed to guess my hesitancy. "Move like this, back and forth instead of up and down." Firm hands guided me to grind against him in a way that my body seemed to understand.
"Oh," I gasped out, shocked at how the motion didn't hurt at all.
His palms slid down to my thighs after I'd repeated the motion a few times to his liking, and I mentally grasped onto that, motivating myself with the knowledge that I was finally doing something right.
Within a few minutes his hands were gliding up my body to caress my breasts, and it was strange, the surge of power I suddenly felt. I knew that he wanted me - he wouldn't have agreed to our bargain if he didn't - but that was the first time that I was truly convinced he was enjoying himself. My body was desirable to him, a god who had lived countless centuries, and had doubtless fucked hoards of women. I had that power.
I could make him finish. I could end this.
My hips moved more quickly, taking him as deeply as I could each time, and when I felt him growing impossibly harder inside me, I smiled a grim, satisfied smile down at the blackness below. I may have been a virgin, but I knew how to make a man cum.
One of Hades' hands came to rest on the crease of my hip then, and I felt his thumb unmistakably seeking out my clit. Fine. If that would make him enjoy this more, I didn't care. Let him think he could just tease the virgin until she's a mindless puddle. This was a game of pleasure that I was determined to lose.
Infuriatingly, my body was not my ally. The heat in my belly grew sharper as I improved my rhythm and was able to hit that inner spot more consistently, and the friction seemed to build to the point that I had to focus on forcing it down. And of course that's when Hades had the nerve to pinch my nipple sharply, breaking my concentration and causing me to gasp in surprise. Bastard. I scratched his chest in retaliation, not stopping to think about the consequences of injuring someone like him. I didn't know which was worse, the way he just chuckled and shifted his hips upward, or the way his thumb continued to relentlessly slide over my slick clit.
To my dismay, I had switched unconsciously from chasing his release to chasing my own. I was nearly on the brink again, as if my body betraying me with two goddamned orgasms was just a function I hadn't yet known of. Was this shameful? I was only doing what he asked, feeling what he was forcing me to feel. I could still walk away from this with my dignity intact.
Think of Stephen. I ground down, imagining this was our first lovemaking. We would do this together a thousand times once he was safe. Sparks of pleasure skittered down my legs, all the sensations across my body culminating into one deep, inescapable burn. I gave myself over to it, riding him faster, holding my breath in anticipation of the crashing wave.
My nails gripped skin as I came. It was more overpowering than the first one, and far more confusing because I was an active participant this time. A noise escaped me, a whiny grunt that I hoped didn't sound as stupid to his ears as it did to mine. I couldn't keep up the movements, my hips jerking against him just enough to prolong the sensations but not push him towards his own finish. He was murmuring something that I couldn't hear, his thumb slowing its work between my legs, so I stopped moving and gave myself a moment to rest and catch my breath.
Hades took advantage of my newly feeble arms to pulled me down to him, enveloping me in his arms and then effortlessly rolling us until I was on my back. Lips and beard nuzzled into the space under my ear, his breathing far from slow.
"I'm going to fuck you now," he told me, and the roughness in his voice merely sent a pleasant shiver through me. I was apparently unable to feel nervous with all the endorphins flowing through my blood.
"Isn't that what you've already been doing?" I asked in an effort to sound coy and unaffected.
"No." He grabbed my wrists and used his weight to pin them onto the mattress above my head. "You won't be able to imagine I am your young man this time."
The sudden burn of my face was mercifully hidden in the dark. Hades began to move with precision, driving into me deep and hard, and all I could do was suck air into my lungs and try to acclimate to it. There was a sensation that I had never felt before, right on that edge between pleasure and pain, the two feelings mingling interchangeably together until there was no longer a need to separate them. The ache in my pelvis grew and festered, wanting more and less all at the same time, like an itch wanting badly to be scratched but knowing it would draw blood to do so.
I knew I was not supposed to enjoy this part, but the only thought slugging through my head was how good it felt for him to hit that same spot within me again and again. He couldn't possibly last long at this pace, and I found myself dreading the end because I was already aching to cum. I couldn't move, I couldn't think, I could only lay there and fight with my own desires while my body greedily took everything he offered. He ground hard against me with his next thrust, and I realized there was no going back. My breath came in pitiful gasps as release consumed me.
He must have expected this, because against my ear I heard that deep voice rumble, "Good girl."
I didn't have the mental capacity to feel ashamed. As the first orgasm faded, I had no time to come to my senses before the next one began to run through me. My legs shook with the intensity that seemed to stretch on, driven by his continued efforts.
"Fuck, good girl." He sounded surprised and amused, which promptly snapped me back to reality. I tugged at my wrists, wanting to smack the smile off his stupid face. But he held me tightly, and his movements changed, hips stuttering against mine while he finally grunted his release. I felt his full weight settle onto me for the first time, which only increased my anger while my body shook with adrenaline.
The temptation to remind him I'm not a mattress was strong, but somehow I managed to hold my tongue through the last few moments of contact. He pulled out of me carefully, and then a hand found my stomach and caressed me for a moment before he pulled away.
The mattress lifted, and his bare footsteps sounded on the marble. I lay there, still swirling with shame and rage, and watched his outline as he turned on the bathroom light and closed the door behind him. There was enough light from the crack under the door that I was suddenly able to see the room again, and I sprang into action.
Liquid dripped down my thigh and my legs seemed as weak as a newborn fawn, but I was beyond caring. I had to get out of there before he returned. I pulled on my clothes as quickly and silently as possible, and then fled, neglecting to latch the door behind me because I couldn't risk the noise.
It was over. Stephen was saved, and I never had to see Hades again.