"The Gift Of A Man"
Boogie Nights
Author's Note: this article is a sequel to "Pasiphae" and derived from the Greek myth of the Labyrinth and the Minotaur. Had my servant not been in the other space readying my outfits for the extensive meal that night, no qualm she would have laughed. Life in the palace, with discerning clothes and ornaments and luxuries, was a future that even freeborn women would have wished for. If it predestined that I had no high-quality in my prospect, but must abide by the king's span of a wife for me, well, what of it?
I knew that my wealth and prospects were high-quality – my wife would succeed my vicar as king of Crete. Even were I hideous as a Gorgon, my rank alone would have made me a worthy bride.
Their want should not have troubled me. I had often bemoaned the future that took my span of love from my hands, and appoint my future in the dynastic whims of kingdoms and princes. I detested the idea of being a part in such a sport.
If my only providence was to be married to a strong man who could tenet Crete capably when my father no longer could, where was that brawny man? Minos was not childish, and suffered bouts of poorly health. If he should go to meet your maker before I was in one piece wed, the kingdom might be torn separately by struggle and uneasiness. I was a female grown, and age-mates of mine were already wives, mothers. They enjoyed the plentiful gifts of Aphrodite, gifts that remained essentially a mystery to me.
Oh, I knew something of them, of classes. The palace detained many fine pieces of drawing celebrating the joys of the deity of love. Men and women, men and men, women and women, tangled in ways I might never have imagined. I had explored its contours and crevices with hands first strange and then urgent.
These thoughts led me to raid, there in the bath as the fill with tears slipped and lapped so comfortingly around me. My breath quickened, a flush bust over my visage, my eyes drifted congested. In my mentality I saw the husband of my dreams. He was the very best of perfection, the develop and visage of Adonis. He would, on our wedding hours of darkness, take me overpoweringly into his arms and shower kisses on my lips, my throat, my breasts ... he would strip off me as he murmured his adoration … he would be exquisitely proportioned, lean thighs, flat belly, a phallus that might have been lovingly crafted by the whim of Aphrodite herself.
He would wear me down upon our wedded bed, part my legs, tour guide himself into me with ardent gentleness. I knew from the have a discussion of the servants that the first schedule, as that gate was breached, would be a moment's bind, but my honey love and wife would kiss me and speak softly reassurances until the ache had passed.
I would sleep that night in his arms, whole and fulfilled. I would get up to find him smiling at me, and no more would I be the shy bride by the on the ball wife … I would pleasure him with my hands and my means of access until he was pining with the necessary to sink once more into the amiability of my mass. I short of my thighs together, trapping my hand between them, and vaulted my back as cute ripples raced noticeable from my essence to tingle across my skin and twist my toes. Dimly, as though from faraway away, I heard myself gasp and sigh.
When I opened my eyes, it was to find my servant status before me with a clean white drying cloth. I was disconcerted, but she wore a peek so bland and dispassionate that I could not sustain my embarrassment. She arranged my hair in a tiara of braids, with lingering dangling curls to brush at my collarbones.
I tried to go into hiding a sudden upswelling of excitement as these planning neared completion. My parents were in conclusion treating me as an adult and not as a product to be confined. I was not to stay alone in my chambers tonight while the indulge went on and the esteem was presented. From my interface, I could see the unfamiliar affect of the Athenian ship in the harbor.
Once, so they believed, Minos of Crete had been a man of imposing importance and strength. It was powerfully to see any evidence of that gentleman in the one who wheezed and lumbered into the dinner hall that night. I sat up straighter, wondering what style of prize it would be. Gold and silver? Precious gems? Rare spices and oils?
Several Athenians filed into the foyer. They came two by two, escorted on both sides by my father's guards.
I proverb such terror in their eyes that my feeling quailed.
Minos swilled mauve, wiped his opening, and regarded them.
"The majesty and victory of Crete must be pleased," Minos said. "Let these offerings be taken, as the others have five days before them, below into the web. Let them be certain unto the Minotaur!"
The assembled crowd gasped, but it was an eager gasp full of bright-eyed anticipation. The Athenians clung to each other in despair.
The jumble! I had heard only rumors of a prison maze hidden beneath the palace. It had been built by Daedalus, the master inventor who had, when I was barely older enough to bear in mind, committed some offense that angered Minos. As punishment, he and his babies son had been exiled to a barren and rocky island. I had been out of your mind, for Icarus had been one of my few playmates, almost as an senior brother to me.
Of the Minotaur, I had heard even less. A monster, sometimes called the Bull of Minos, was believed to dwell in the darkness of the maze. But, hearing its dire name from my very father's lips, I could no longer qualm that it was factual.
My father's group surged to go along with the guards as the prisoners were ushered from the hall. Minos joined them, and after a dilly-dallying, I followed.
We entered a part of the palace until that time forbidden to me. Its admission was a tall arch, at the root of which was a gilded image of a bull's controller with wide curves of horn and eyes made from rubies. The entry, stained black, stood honest. A chill breeze, wet as the very breath of three-headed Cerberus, issued from it.
Beyond the door was a slow and narrow opportunity of rough-hewn seed. Its walls were lined with tiers of bare, testing benches. Minos' attention was flat on them. At their feet, a very big trap door was agree into the stagger. Its bolt was as thick as a man's forearm.
At a gesture from Minos, two of the guards undid this bolt. Then, as their fellows waited nervously with spears diagonal for attack, they raised the fence in door. The hole in the core of the seed floor was a pit of darkness.
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