The Sins of Salome (closed for authorminx)

[Zagreus_D]

She sheathed his manhood in wet warmth, soft and welcoming as a dream. He thrust his hips upward to meet her as best as he was able. Even though he had rejected her with words, his body was still against him, following an instinct so base and ancient that he could not resist.

Her hand pressed against his throat, completely blocking his airway. His eyes closed and in the strangled darkness he saw visions of angles and demons warring against each other, but he could not tell if his soul was lost or saved. He would not remain conscious much longer. She could easily end his life, and what would become of his soul if he died in such a confused state of lust and torment?

She moved against him with experienced grace, riding him to the peak of his ecstasy but somehow stopping before he found release, but in the maddening instant in which his orgasm was denied, she had allowed him breath again. He sucked in sweet air in great gasps, that drove away the visions. His eyes fluttered against the light, too bright now to see anything more than her siluet, eclipsed by a golden halo.

His cock throbbed with pent up pleasure, aching for the release that only she could grant. He dropped his head back against the wall and he moaned from exhaustion and wanting.

 

[authorminx]

She had perhaps gone overboard, she realized, but he had drawn her ire. He looked entirely insensible and it was so, so beautiful.

Salome leaned forward, with a bit of difficulty because of the shackles, and kissed him. Softly, her lips barely touching his at first. She did not expect him to respond but hoped he wouldn't flinch. Her tongue snaked out, traced the parched lines of his lips.

"You're thirsty, John," she whispered, her hips moving again, up and down, a seductive rhythm reminiscent of a dance. "I can quench it. Let me."

She sat up a bit, her hand tracing down her torso, two fingers extending to stroke her clit while she rode him.

It didn't take long--the sensation was overwhelming after the long build-up to this moment. Though his words rejected her, his body welcomed her. She came, shuddering atop him, her body clenching with exquisite tenseness as wave after wave crashed over her. She heard her own moans in a haze, half unmoored from reality.

 

[Zagreus_D]

John gasped at the touch of her lips, her tongue soft and moist. He really was thirsty and the moisture of her mouth, so close to his, was another torment, an oasis just beyond his reach.

She offered him relief, but not for the thirst in his mouth. She moved against him again, her pelvis writhing and rocking, calling up the pleasure up in his loins, his seed once again threatening to rise up and out of him.

He felt her orgasm clench around his cock. He heard her moans, like music in his ears, the sound of her pleasure building and adding to his own, until he felt the spasm of ecstasy seize him.

He came hard, grasping the chains that bound him, and pushing up and into her as his fluids rushed out to fill her soft wet cavern. He moaned out, calling her name, calling out to God in blasphemous, shocking, gasping pleasure.

Surely, Salome was right. He could not come back from this.

 

[authorminx]

Salome let out one last cry, writhing as she felt his release. Sensation jolted through her, breath coming fast. It took a long minute before she could think, panting as he softened, still in her.

For all that he had refused to say her name at first, the sound of him pleading it was all the sweeter.

She slid off, his seed dripping down the soft skin of her thighs. It felt like victory. She cleaned him again, carefully, knowing that he would be sensitive. She dropped a few affectionate kisses on his torso, then stood.

She unshackled his chains. Perhaps a mistake, but she thought not. If he tried to run, the door was locked and he still fancied himself a holy man, so he would not hurt her.

She poured a glass of cold, clear water and handed it to him. Waiting for him to speak seemed to be the best course of action.

 

[Zagreus_D]

John rubbed his wrists. They were sore from the chaffing of the irons, and when she offered him water, he drank greedily.

He watched her. She moved with such fluid grace. Many had called her the most beautiful woman in the world. It couldn't be far from the truth. John had never seen another woman who could compare.

It was a mystery to him why she should want him so. It struck him as tragic that Salome should waste her affection on a man who was not capable of loving her, not in the romantic way, not in the way that Salome wished for him to love her. As her prisoner, he could not stop her from using him as she wished, but he would not tell her lies, no matter how badly she wanted to hear them.

It occurred to him to explain the reason for his rejection, the reason that he had given up all earthly delights, and chose instead to live a life of chastity and simplicity. He raised his head as if preparing to speak, and then halted. He was not without compassion for Salome, but he was still her prisoner. He didn't know if he trusted her enough to speak of the shame and sorrow that had driven him to live in the wilderness. The story was too intimate, too painful. So he asked a question instead. "What will you do with me now?"

 

[authorminx]

Salome pulled on a long red silk robe, tying it loosely. She poured two glasses of wine and handed one to him, exchanging it for his empty water glass. She saw him open his mouth to speak, watched him change his mind about whatever he might reveal. It was enough for her, for now. She could be patient; this she had proven.

"It is not just sexual fulfillment you lack, John. It is also intimacy and comfort. So what I will do with you, as you so crassly phrase it, is first offer you a real bath. My basin is big enough for two."

She took a drink, studying him. The flush of satisfaction sat high on his cheeks, undeniable. There was a chance he could reach climax again before the night was over, she thought. His eyes still roamed her, more alert now that he was free of his chains.

She knew he did not understand why she would go to such lengths to have him. Perhaps one day he could, if they talked honestly. Salome had only ever known men that worshipped her, promised her the world, without really recognizing her worth. He did not know it, but John was kin to her in this way--he had been placed on a pedestal by people that idolized him without understanding him. She wanted to understand him, and for him to return that kinship.

"And then...we shall sleep peacefully in my bed. How long since you have slept in a bed, my darling?"

 

[Zagreus_D]

"So you mean to keep me like a pet." He did not speak in anger or in resignation, but rather in a very matter of fact tone. He took a sip of the wine, and realizing that it had not been diluted, he refrained from drinking any more. He had no desire to dull his mind with drunkenness. "And what if I should refuse?"

It was beginning to come clear to him that Salome imagined that if she kept him long enough, that he would eventually submit to being her willing slave, that he might even learn to love her for the comfort and luxury she provided. He stood up and stretched, watching her closely as he moved. He stepped forward and set the wine glass on the table and then turned to retrieve his own robe.

 

[authorminx]

Salome was beginning to find his resistance amusing, like a petulant child.

"You mistake me entirely. I have no use for a pet. I want you to be my equal. Nay, in some cases, I would like you to dominate me. But, we must understand each other first and we are a long way from that."

She watched as he moved, fluid and lanky, not guilt or shame in the way his naked frame filled space. Though he was not aware of his power, it shone through despite his best efforts to defeat it.

"You may refuse, if you wish, and argue all you want. I do not shy away from intellectual conversation, I crave it. Challenges to my way of life do not shake my conviction. I want you, John, and I am willing to descend wherever you take me to show you that is is not selfishness nor vanity that draws me to you."

 

[Zagreus_D]

John pulled on his robe and tied it at his waist, before turning back to face his captor. "You cannot have me as your equal, and have me as your prisoner Salome. Do you not see the contradiction at the very center of this arrangement? You might like to imagine me as something akin to a husband, rather than as a slave or a pet. But I am not your husband. As a slave, I should at least be given some work of practical value. You only have an interest in petting and pampering me. This makes me something less than a slave. It makes me your pet. If you respect me as your equal, you should respect my right to leave you. Do I have that right, Salome? May I choose to leave you?"

 

[authorminx]

"I will give you this choice someday, but not now. I wish to first give you a true understanding of the choice you make, should you walk away from me and back into the cold arms of your religion. A prophet is a slave, as well. Still a pet. Obedient."

Salome walked away, expecting him to follow, speaking as she made her way to the waiting bath. Her hips swung, the robe rippled over her lush curves. The bath would be the perfect temperature now. The room smelled of rose oil, which wafted and mingled with the steam riding from surface of the large tub.

"Please, get in. Your body will thank you for a soak, surely your muscles are tired."

 

[Zagreus_D]

"Someday," she had said, as if she expected this arrangement to have some lasting tenure. John wasn't sure where his certainty came from, but it felt apparent to him that whatever might happen to end this strange confinement, the term someday did not apply.

"Do you really think that there is no difference between my relationship with God and my relationship with you?" The question was a gentle one, not steeped in ire or agitation, but in a tone of quiet contemplation. "Do you think that God had me seized, bound and pinned to a wall so that He could molest me against my will?"

John watched Salome walk away from him, she moved like sunlight upon the water, such was her elegance, but even still the temptation to follow her was very slight and easy to master. Instead he moved to the table, mixing the wine from his goblet with the clear water in his cup until it was cut sufficiently to be imbibed without causing intoxication.

"Ah... Salome, it makes me sad for you if you cannot grasp that I willingly laid myself at God's feet, and begged Him to make something more of me than a lowly sinner born to misery. God did not tie me down. He lifted me up. Perhaps it is your intention to offer me some similar elevation, to make me like a prince when you see me as a pauper, but this is folly Salome. Or would you have me lay myself at your feet, and beg you to make me something more than I have become as God's own prophet? Do you truly believe you can offer me something of greater value than the elevation which I received by God's hand?"

He heard Salome speak from the adjoining room, "Please, get in. Your body will thank you for a soak, surely your muscles are tired."

With cup in hand, he finally did follow Salome toward the bath she had prepared, but he had not yet made up his mind to what degree he would comply with her wishes.

He swirled the cup in his hand allowing the water and wine to blend more perfectly. Then when he tasted the sweet elixir, no longer concerned for its effect on him, something of God's purpose started to become clear... He did not have to remain as pure as the water in order to deserve God's blessing and forgiveness, he only needed to avoid the strong wine intoxication that Salome wished to press upon him. God meant for him to follow a course like watered wine, to surrender the absolute purity of soul which evoked too much pride in him, and through his mingling with Salome offer salvation to one of God's daughters, who had too much pride of her own to recognize her need for grace and salvation.

 

[authorminx]

While he speechified, she began to doubt her choice of him as the man to accompany her to her final aim: transcendence through intellectual debauchery. It was possible that he was simply too dim, too malleable, to ever be able to find the courage of any conviction. His indoctrination ran deep and he believed the lies he told himself, or that he assumed were passed down by his imaginary friend. Salome knew the names of many gods, and they all used trickery. John's was no different.

She looked at him as he entered the room, smiled at his childish dilution of the wine. A prude of the first degree. It was then she decided that she would give him a week to come to his senses, and if they made no progress, send him to the dungeon to waste away with the voices in his head.

"You amuse me, John. For a that your philosophy preaches loving acceptance, all you do is judge."

She dropped her robe and it fluttered into a silken pool at her feet. Slowly, one foot dipped into the tub, them the other. She sank in with a soft sigh, leaving plenty of room for him to do the same.

"I find it sad. It makes me wonder if your beliefs are not actually borne of certain prejudices in the minds of the men who writ them. Exclusively men, of course."

 

[Zagreus_D]

John looked puzzled at her words, and he was... genuinely puzzled. "Have I made you angry? You speak of judging, and prejudices... Do you actually know the doctrine that I teach?"

He watched Salome's perpetually dance-like movements, and when she looked at him he offered her a gentle smile. "You accused me before of arrogance, and I will confess it to you, your accusation hit the mark. I have too much pride in the purpose that I have been given, and the revelations of the heart that I have been gifted with. Why else would God have placed me in your custody, if not to teach me humility, and remind me that I am meant to offer comfort to everyone? I do not agree with the choices you have made Salome, and I cannot offer you the romantic love you desire, but even so I do not aim to wield God's wisdom like a weapon, but rather to ease the suffering of those who have been lost in darkness and confusion. Perhaps my pride has prevented me from recognizing that you too are suffering and confused. You said that we might speak Salome. Speak to me if you would. Of which prejudice and I accused? Do you think that I have a hatred of women?"

John sipped at the wine, enjoying the exquisite flavors that danced over his tongue. It was truly the best wine he had ever tasted.

 

[authorminx]

She laughed.

"I am not suffering, nor am I confused. I am perfectly at ease with myself. But you..."

Salome lifted one long leg out of the water, droplets rolling down her smooth skin.

"You give two roles to women: wife, silent slave really, and whore. Two categories in which you and your people wish to fit all women."

She picked up the soap on the edge of the basin and lathered it between her hands.

"This is because you fear women's power, because it would expose the farce of your philosophies. Your arrogance is not just within your heart--it is in the words you speak, the assumption that you could not possibly be wrong."

She spread the lather first over her lush breasts, drawing his eye. Her nipples were stiff from the constant arousal of sparring with him, exciting even if she did not ultimately convince him.

"There are so many sensations I want to share with you. Perhaps we might help each other, in the end. But first you must let go of your desire to tame me, to bring me to heel. It is not my nature, nor is it yours. You are a wild thing, John, this is why you never really feel at home with your ideology. Come, let me wash your hair..."

 

[Zagreus_D]

John watched Salome as she bathed, and for the first time since he had taken the vow he felt some regret for his choice to show his devotion to God through celibacy. If he had made any other oath, he would be free to enjoy her body without posing a direct challenge to his faith. Sex outside of marriage was a sin, yes, but it was in the nature of woman and man to sin, why else would they need forgiveness and redemption?

To sin was one thing, to abandon his vow to God was another. Salome had taken him against his will before, but if he went to her now, that would be his choice, and he had invested too much in his faith to abandon it for a woman's touch. He looked away. He was only torturing himself by studying her every move.

He focused his mind instead on her words. This is because you fear women's power, because it would expose the farce of your philosophies. Your arrogance is not just within your heart--it is in the words you speak, the assumption that you could not possibly be wrong."

"You've mistaken me Salome, I do not fear women, nor do I hate them, or wish to see them in any light other than the true light of who they are as individuals. I do not wish to make you or any woman into my servant, nor use any woman simply to satisfy my own desires. I have desires, but I have dedicated myself to abstinence, so that I might see the world more clearly. I live in accordance with the desires of my soul rather than the desires of my flesh. The thing that you are calling my arrogance is my faith... the only difference between a prophet and a mad man, is that the prophet as perfect faith in something true, while the mad man has perfect faith in something false. Do you think that I'm a mad man?"

He looked back at her for only a moment, to gage her reaction, then looked away from her again.

 

[authorminx]

Salome splashed water over herself to wash away the soap. She could he was watching, in between trying to force his eyes away. That itself was encouraging.

"No, darling," she said, her voice a low purr. "I do not think you a mad man. I think you have been lead astray. Taught to believe in things that are comforting, but untrue. And I understand. I understand wanting the comfort of being sure."

She stood, water running down her sleek and smooth body in rivulets, drops gathering in the tuft of hair that guarded her sacred entrance. She displayed herself without shame, wanting to see how strong his will was. Would he be able to keep his eyes averted?

"I want you again, John. In my bed, among the pillows, I want you to take me. You can always ask for forgiveness later, no?"