GuardedAngel
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“No Eros, ha, ha, please stop! It was just for play!” The forest nymph cried out as the God of Love proceeded to run the tip of his arrow up and down her sensitive soles. She had pushed him into the stream earlier, and he in vengeance had tied her up in vines and proceeded to tickle her feet, ever so gently but enough to make the sensitive nymph laugh as she bounced in the vines that held her.
"Such is my right to punish you for attacking a God." He grinned, enjoying the ways her soles reddened from his ministrations, letting the plume of his arrow draw lightly between her toes, incurring giggles from both the nymph and her sisters who lay hidden in the trees. The God of love had grown bored waiting all day in the forest of King Harold, feeling more like a bandit in the shadows rather than a god as he waited for his prey to arrive. His mother had sent him once again to do her dirty work as he waited for the youngest of the King's daughters, the famed beauty Psyche to appear. She had incurred his mother's wrath due to the claims of her beauty surpassing that of the Great Goddess. Aphrodite was nothing if not vain and sent Eros to dispose of the wench by any means possible so her beauty may never be questioned again.
He had lain in wait for the beauty to appear, but she was late, inexplicably so. He had been watching her for days, marking her routine in wait for the most opportune moment to strike. He had proposed rather than the drastic route his mother suggested to simply curse her to love the beast nearest by to her with one of his arrows. Those who worshiped her would think her mad and she would be locked away, gazed upon with pity rather than the adoration his mother despised.
Psyche would like clockwork come riding through the forest before noon, after her prayers from the temple. She was not like most ladies and enjoyed running wild in the forest, unlike her most prim and proper sisters who he had found a complete and utter bore to watch; not that Eros found humans particularly interesting, at least not on their own.
Just then there was a rustle in the trees as one of the wind nymphs, one of Anemoi's daughters blew in, transforming and whispering something to the other forest nymphs who squealed with glee at the news and shifted into a leaf, blowing off on the wind towards whatever had caused the commotion. As another nymph followed suit, Eros stopped his attack on his victim, leaving her to investigate, the laughter he caused being replaced by new chortles as the nymphs who had stayed behind attacked their sister, continuing to tickle her in his absence.
He wandered through the trees, following the breeze that had taken the nymphs, feeling the twigs crunch beneath his feet as he traveled through the narrow trees. It was too dangerous to fly on so narrow a path, and he cared not to draw attention to himself. He pushed aside a final bush with his hand and heard what was the clear sound of laughter, the most beautiful laughter he'd ever heard.
It was Psyche, the human girl who had left him waiting. There she was, her raven black hair glistening in the sun as she lay strewn in the grass, her usually tamed hair matted with leaves that clung to the sweat as she shook, both of her sisters having pinned her down as they tickled her without mercy, one holding her down while the other spidered up her sides before digging into her sensitive ribs.
The god found himself staring at the young maiden, watching with fascination. Her laughter was beautiful, light, and full of playfulness. She moved beautifully as she laughed. He started to wonder how she would move for him, the feel of her creamy skin beneath his fingers, the feel of her flesh against his- No. It could not be. For a moment he felt a pang of pity. He was a lover like his mother. He had never been a fighter. The gods were indeed cruel even to their own kind to have him be the one to curse someone with such beauty. He had stopped caring for physical beauty long ago, and though it itself was enchanting, it was her laughter that literally brought joy to his heart.
The sisters finally stood, letting her up, looking almost apologetic as Psyche crossed her arms defensively.
Sora shrugged. "You know the rules Psyche, one tumble for each proposal you refuse. We all went through it. Guess you'll just have to say yes one of these days, like we did. Surely they cannot be all so displeasing to you...”
Psyche snapped, "Oh? What kind of a gentleman asks at the temple before the gods during prayer?"
"A man asking for blessing from the Goddess of Love, is that so terrible?"
"He only cared for my beauty..."
"You are a great beauty Psyche," Ferrah argued. "Besides, he's rich and handsome, and he worships you! What more do you want?"
Psyche frowned, looking into the stream. "I don’t want to be worshiped, I want to be loved. Is that so much to ask..."
No, Eros thought. It wasn't.
Psyche stood on the mountain, watching as the rocks tumbled into the crater below. She curled up, trying to warm herself as best she could as the chill slithering through her skin like a serpent. Her feet had already numbed from the cold long before, and now it had snaked all around to her fingertips. She felt a single tear leave her eye as she stared into the ground below, contemplating her situation, dressed in white as a bride, in the cold alone. She would have laughed if her heart did not ache so, for instead of a wedding, she had been sent there to die.
After her last refusal to the Duke, her father had been fed up. He had taken her to see the Oracle of Apollo, to reason with her and show her that even the fates declared she must wed. Indeed she would, the Oracle foretold, though it would be no man that she would wed, but a Beast of the Gods own making and that she must climb the mountain alone to await for the beast to take her, as was the gods will.
She had said a tearful goodbye to her sisters and father, who called it a punishment for the pain and humiliation her refusals had caused, and thus she climbed, and climbed, and waited for the beast who would carry out the Gods justice.
Just then a gush of wind appeared, surprising her as it carried her off, soaring through the mountains to a place farther than she had ever been. It set her down before a magnificent castle. She stood admiring the place. Could this be where a monster lives? She thought, gasping as she felt a feather light touch on her sides, poking her. She squealed and turned, trying to find the source.
"Forgive me," the disembodied voice spoke. "I am Nara, your maid. My master has told me to make you feel welcome. This is your home Mistress Psyche. Supper has been prepared. Won't you let us tend to you before you eat? Master would be furious if we let you freeze."
Psyche nodded, confused as she was lead by Nara to a bath, where she was stripped by invisible hand maidens who set her down and helped her wash. Psyche relaxed for the first time since her arrival, enjoying the soothing water, the steam from the stones beneath, the smell of lavender and oils that both soothed her and made her grow weary. The maidens took care to wash her skin, removing all traces of dirt and grim, drying her off and dressing her in silk finer than she'd ever owned before leading her to the chambers where her super awaited, accompanied by the sounds of music trailing through the hall. It reminded her of home. She felt a pang of loneliness at that.
Her hunger surprised her as she devoured the food brought before her, plates of delicacies like she'd never seen, richer than anything she'd ever tasted. All the while her brain continuing to try and understand these wonders and what was happening. Where was she? Why was she here? Did the monster wish to fatten her up before he devoured her? Would he eat her first? Perhaps this was her last meal and the gods wanted to show her pity before the slaughter. She sighed, pushing away the plate as she finished, watching it along with the rest of the contents on the table disappear one by one. She watched as the last utensil faded from sight, darkness suddenly covering the room. She walked towards the bed, feeling for the covers as she sat on the edge, looking at the moonlight through the window, listening for sounds of anyone, or anything, but nothing came.
Psyche did not remember falling asleep as she awoke, the light breeze caressing her side, making her turn, gasping slightly as she realized she was unable to. She felt the the strong grip of silk binds wrapped around her ankles and wrists, holding her strapped tightly to the bed. She twisted experimentally, trying to escape but feeling them seem to actually tighten. She growled in frustration, hearing a chuckle as she did so. She gulped. "Who's there?"
"I am a friend Psyche." the voiced cooed, just beyond the bed.
She gulped. "If you're a friend... Please let me go."
"I'm afraid I can't, Psyche..."
"Oh please, before the monster comes back."
He paused at that. "The monster?"
"Yes, the monster, the one who summoned me. He's why I'm here. He's made them tie me in my sleep... He's going to eat me if you don't let me go.”
A moment of silence passed before the man, whoever he was, began to laugh. "It is not funny!" Psyche shouted, twisting again.
He forced himself to stop. "My apologies my lady, but who told you this?"
"My sisters. They told me of a monster that forces young maidens to be his bride and kills them on their wedding night. Now please, let me go. I'll do anything."
"Anything, you say?"
"Yes, please! Just let me out of here!"
"Alright then, we have a deal."
Psyche gasped with relief. "Oh thank you." She waited, moments passing before she spoke again. "Why have you not released me?"
"Because Psyche, you have not yet paid the price..."
"The price?" Was this a trick?
"Yes, you said you'd do anything I want. And there is something I want very, very much," he stopped. "You wouldn't be breaking your word, would you?"
Psyche whimpered. "N-no... What do you want?"
"You'll see..." Psyche heard footsteps around her, clinking sounds from left and right as if he was moving things. She struggled against the blindfold that covered her eyes, anxious to see what this stranger was doing. "At least take off my blindfold so I may see what you're doing!"
He tutted softly. "I'm afraid there are rules, you cannot see me while you're here. You wouldn't like me to get in trouble now would you? I expected a princess to have more honour than that."
"N-no..."
"Good, now wait one moment, I'll be right back."
Psyche breathed, trying to be calm. Perhaps he was looking for a knife to cut the ropes... Perhaps he was looking for the monster... Perhaps...
Psyche yelped suddenly, as she felt a feather light touch at her feet, it was quick and sudden before it disappeared. She breathed again, waiting. Nothing. She relaxed.
She felt it again at once, first one one foot and then the other, the unmistakable gentle stroke of a feather on her right sole. She held her breath, willing herself not to laugh. "Laugh for me princess," the voice commanded. She clenched her toes tightly, struggling to hold back when the tempo increased, and she giggled, unable to suppress it any longer. "Ha, please no!" she began to laugh, much to the glee of her captor. She could do nothing else. He twirled the feather almost lovingly between her feet, moving from one to the next. The way her ankles were crossed made it impossible to cover one with the other as she might have done otherwise. She did however manage at one point to trap the feather between her toes, trapping it and stopping the assault.
"Highness, I think you’re right, your toes were starting to look a bit lonely,” the voice said. Psyche giggled as she felt a new feather saw between her toes, one by one, distracting her enough to let the first one go. "No please, not my toes," she giggled.
"As lovely as you sound, I think we can do better. Perhaps here!" the man cried, as Psyche suddenly felt long, sharply trimmed nails work expertly upon her vulnerable underarms, causing stronger laughter to spring forth. "No, haha please stop!"
"Oh that is a nice spot indeed," the voice teased. "And here I began to think you were unhappy being here. Perhaps this will cheer you up." Psyche nearly bounced then as one of the free hands began to circle over her stomach, drawing a line until it reached her bare belly button. Psyche bounced on the bed, laughing at the touch as the other hand goosed her sides, caressing her like a lover before it began to tickle her madly.
Psyche had never felt so vulnerable. She had been tickled many times by her sisters but never like this! Not with such attention or devotion to each spot, it was as if he was trying to drive her mad! Though at the same time, she could not help but notice that every now and again his touch would turn from tickling to caressing, stroking her body with a tenderness she never expected from man or beast.
As Psyche continued to laugh, Eros watched, unable to help but feel something was missing. She laughed as divinely as he had hoped, the sound like music to his ears. Each touch drove her closer to insanity and him to lust. He had never found anyone so responsive as she. He grinned as he thought of her earlier words, his teeth baring as he continued to dig deeply into her ribs, before he set his tongue to her belly, licking softly as he caused new tickling sensations through his bride.
Psyche felt as if she was on fire. She chortled as she felt his tongue suddenly on her belly, feeling ticklish to degrees she never felt possible. "W-why are you doing this?" she continued to giggle.
Eros raised his head. "You expected a monster, sweet Psyche. I should hardly hope to disappoint my bride." He smirked as he nibbled softly at the flesh of her side, causing her to shudder softly. She felt a tear run down her eye.
Eros stopped at that, brushing away the tear with his hand, kissing her forehead. "Do not cry dear Psyche."
She sighed, trying to convey sudden seriousness in her tone. "Please..."
"Please what?" He teased.
"I wish to see your eyes..."
He paused, suspicious, "Why?" He continued to stroke her hips, causing small giggles but wanting to hear what she said.
"Because I wish to make love to my new husband, and I would like to look into his eyes, even if I may not see his face."
A moment passed before Psyche felt the blindfold disappear, along with the binds, leaving her to gaze at the shadow towering over her of a man, not a beast. He was invisible to her in the darkness, save for the two soft blue eyes staring back, and waiting.
Eros need only have waited a moment as he felt Psyche propel herself into his muscular arms, kissing him deeply. He wrapped her tightly in his wings and turned her onto her side. He then proceeded to touch her in ways that felt nothing like a tickle.
“Love, why may I not see your face?” Psyche asked softly, her head tucked under his shoulder as they gazed at the stars. It had been days since she had arrived, yet still Psyche would meet her husband only in darkness, in shadows, or blindfolded. Not that she particularly minded the later anymore. She had come to enjoy their sessions almost as much as he did, especially when they would switch and he would let her tickle him instead
“Because it would ruin everything," Eros whispered gravely.
"Do you think yourself hideous?" She teased.
"Are you calling your lord and husband ugly my sweet?" He grinned, digging his fingers playfully into her ribs. Psyche laughed, squirming in his arms, eager to escape, though only halfheartedly.
"No, no, I repent!" She continued to struggle.
"I don't think you do my love," Eros grinned. "Perhaps you need some incentive.”
Psyche found herself bound in seconds, the blindfold around her eyes firmly secured as she waited to see what her husband had in mind.
She felt the distinct stroke of a brush against her sole, coated with something that felt cold, sticky, and heavy all at once. Psyche giggled as both her soles were painted by the brush, leaving her toes, soles, and arches covered in the gooey substance.
A shudder ran through Psyche as she felt her husband's warm breath blow gently over her her soles, causing them to tingle.
A moment later that same mouth drew a gale of laughter as Psyche felt her left foot assaulted by her husband's tongue. "No, please!" she laughed, feeling the warm tongue lap away at the substance lick by lick. Each swipe caused Psyche to squirm, as she tried desperately to avoid the wicked tongue at her soles.
"Now love, surely you realize the importance of keeping clean," he taunted as he drew lazy circles over the bared flesh of her flawless soles, made more sensitive from his ministrations, causing his wife to squeal. This was new. Her husband had tickled her many times but never like this! The sensations were literally electric, making her bounce against the mattress while his wicked tongue worked at her soles.
"Worry not my love, I shall not forget your beautiful toes," Eros whispered, as he clamped her helpless toes one by one between his lips, sucking gently as he drew new moans mixed with laughter from the woman above him.
“Oh please…”
"Are you sorry now my sweet?"
"Oh yes," Psyche moaned, her thoughts lost in the sensations his hands and tongue brought.
Psyche revelled in the sweet bliss before laughter overtook the pleasure as he finished her left foot with a single swipe of his tongue and continued with her right, repeating the process once more.
Once her feet were cleaned, Eros removed the binds, eagerly accepting the kiss his wife offered, letting her taste the honey he had licked so tenderly from her soles.
He laughed with surprise as she dug her own nails into his sides, enjoying the sadistic look in her eyes as she drew laughter from him. Her hands proceeded to wander and scratch at his underarms, causing his laughter to double. He enjoyed her most when she was like this, as eager to give as she was to receive. He had never trusted anyone so. Tickling like most things for him had been about pleasure, the pleasure he gained from tickling others, but never did he think it was possible to enjoy receiving it from someone else. Then again, he never thought he would find someone like Psyche either.
He rolled her onto her stomach as she reached for his foot, making her squeal beneath him by nibbling at her side, enjoying the growl of frustration as she struggled to regain dominance. "Now now, enough of that," he cooed into her ear, before kissing her with fervor, enjoying the feel as she succumbed, returning his kiss with equal passion. He would have made love to her right then, but they needed to talk. He pulled away, savouring the whimper she gave as he did so, "Would you care if I was hideous?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious.
It took her a moment to realize what he was asking, her face softening into her best smile. "Never. I care not for such things. I just... I wish I could see you, all of you."
Eros gripped her hand in his, holding her tightly. "If you were to see me, I would need to go away… We would be parted forever my love. Surely having me is worth the price... Is it not?"
"Yes my love…” She stroked his brow tenderly. “You are all I need. Nothing else matters."
It was days later that Psyche found herself beginning to feel lonely in her new home. Whenever her husband left to whatever task he required, she was alone, and despite the company of Nara and all her maids, she missed the company of her sisters. She cried at the thought of her family who must have thought her dead.
That night Eros felt the change in his wife, though she appeared the same as always, her demeanour had changed. She was not happy. Not even her laughter was sincere or playful as it had always been, it was empty and forced. He hated it.
"What is it my love?" Eros asked, as she circled their chamber once more, worry hiding all other emotion from her face.
"I miss my family... My sisters. It feels so long since I last saw them... I fear for them, for what they must think. Should they think me dead, I can only imagine the grief it has caused my father..."
Eros frowned. "Psyche... You know you cannot leave..."
"I know. I would not wish to but... I missed them so much, it hurts."
Eros sighed, pulling her into his arms, holding her close to him as he tried to sooth away her pains while she cried softly in his arms. He could not bear to be the cause of such unhappiness... "I will bring them here for you sweet Psyche. You have my word."
Eros did as he promised. Ferrah and Sora arrived the next morning at daybreak, carried by the same wind that had taken Psyche to her home all those weeks ago. Her sisters greeted her with open arms, hugging her fiercely with happiness at seeing their sister alive and well.
As they dined in the majestic gardens of the palace, the three sisters shared stories of their lives, all the adventures they had taken, and then they turned to the youngest sister, and asked her about her husband.
"Who is this man? He must be very wealthy to afford such finery," Sora questioned good-naturedly.
"I cannot say," Psyche admitted.
"Well, tell us what he does. Is he a prince, a duke?" Ferrah asked gleefully.
"I cannot say," Psyche repeated.
"Well, what he look like?" Sora asked, this time more frustrated than before.
"I cannot say," Psyche snapped, unable to hide her annoyance.
"You mean to say you will not or you cannot?" Sora pressed, gasping as realization struck. "You haven't seen what he looks like!”
"N-no, that's not what I meant..."
“Have you?"
"He is very private... But he is kind. It matters not what he looks like."
"That's what he wants you think. Everyone knows that's how the monster lures the prey into his trap..."
"He is no monster!" Psyche shouted. “He is my husband!”
“Yes, well you’ll never really know though will you, at least not unless you see for yourself.”
“We would not say otherwise,” started Ferrah. “If we did not worry. We know you’d do the same for us…”
An awkward silence passed between the sisters. The rest of the afternoon went quietly. Psyche tried to forget their words, but try as she might, a nagging hint of doubt crept in the back of her mind, never leaving her side in the days that passed.
It was this doubt that brought on nightmares, terrible, fearsome ones that left Psyche tossing until early hours. Her fear grew so that it lead to Psyche sneaking in to her husband's room one fateful night, oil lamp in hand. Since she had arrived, Eros had forbade the use of any lights in his presence. Only moonlight seemed capable to hide his true form, as all other sources would expose him. She sometimes left one lit by mistake, from her reading or wash, but he would always be quick as lightning, almost flying as he zipped quickly enough to extinguish the light before she could see him.
She heard him snoring softly, seeing the familiar outline in the shadows as she approached. She had taken care not to make any noise, walking barefoot towards the bed. She would only take a quick peek; he need never know. Then everything could return to as it was.
Sighing, she raised the lamp high, edging over to reveal his form. She let out a gasp. It was Eros, the god of love! Startled, she tipped back, not noticing as a single drop of oil fell onto his shoulder, awakening him.
"Psyche... What have you done?" Eros snarled, extending his long beautiful wings as he rose.
“Eros, I’m sorry!” she cried, as she stared into the handsome face of the man she’d made love to, the man who’d taken care of her, who’d given her everything, now exposed by her actions.
“The castle, the jewels, my affections, was none of it enough?”
“My sisters said…”
“I care not for your excuses! I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me? With betrayal?”
Psyche sniffed. “I just wanted to see your face…”
“You disobeyed me. You know that the crime for disobeying a god is death."
She closed her eyes, accepting her fate. Why did I listen to my sisters?
"I do." She knelt before him, her neck exposed. “I am yours to do with as you will my lord…”
For a moment he seemed to contemplate her. It would be so easy… "I love you too much... I cannot kill you…”
She broke her stance to gaze at him. “Eros…”
“Do not interrupt me. You will still be punished."
Psyche felt as she was bound on the bed, not by the silken scarves she had come to cherish, but by cold hard steel, which made her skin cold to the touch. Then she felt it, all at once as disembodied hands seemed to scratch her from all ends, at her feet, her ribs, her underarms, and her knees, causing laughter to pour out.
This was no longer the sweet tender tickling from their lovemaking, nor was it the playful tickling from the lazy afternoons when he would come home early. On those days he would let her pin him and tickle him back. He had the most sensitive sides, and killer arches. She enjoyed having him beneath his hands, vulnerable, sweet, with a boyish grin as she had attacked him with vigor. She had felt powerful because of him, stronger than she had ever thought possible. But most of all, she had felt loved, more loved than she could have dreamed. He had told her he had never trusted anyone enough to let them tickle him before her. She had stolen his heart.
And with a single drop of oil she'd destroyed that trust forever.
Psyche continued to laugh, tears pouring out as she felt the hands dig cruelly into her knees; the hands at her feet cutting like knives as they scratched her soles, arches, and toes.. This tickling was not loving in any way; it was cold, calculating, and vengeful. It pained her to no end, though no pain could match that of her heart as Eros watched, his eyes darker and colder than she ever imagined. No sign of comfort in them, just emptiness and hate..
Escape was impossible. The hands knew all of her spots, all the places that made her giggle, squeal, squeak, laugh, and everything else in between. She was supposed to suffer, and she would, for as long as Eros willed it.
The torture went on so long Psyche lost count. She thought she would pass out from the laughter, but the hands seemed to know just when to stop and give her enough pause to catch her breath before they would start again. At one point she started to long for the tickling, long for anything that would numb the ache she got when it stopped. The ache of knowing she had lost.
After what seemed like hours Psyche mercifully blacked out. When she came to, the castle, the hands, and Eros were gone.
Psyche found herself wandering the grounds outside the temple of Aphrodite, her heart heavy as she waited.
After she had awoken, she went to the homes of her sisters to see if either would help her, hoping for comfort, advice, for anything. She could not return to her father, not after the misery he had suffered, knowing the humiliation she had caused him.
Neither of her sisters would take her in. Eros had been so vengeful he'd visited them after he'd dealt with her, giving them the same treatment she had suffered. Whatever he had done, it made them not wish to be anywhere near her. She could not help but resent them for this, as it was their fault this had happened. If they had not put such fears and doubts in her mind, she would have never lit that lamp in Eros's room, and he would still be with her…
And so she had gone from their homes, taking the only option she knew, and seeking refuge in the temple of Aphrodite, in hopes she could plead with the goddess to bring her son back. She strolled into the temple with what little courage she had left, calling out to the Great Goddess.
Psyche need not have waited long as she saw the blinding light fill the temple, as Aphrodite, the most beautiful woman known to man appeared, staring down at her with bitter glee.
“Well if it isn’t the harlot who has stolen my son’s heart. The songs were right, you are indeed a beauty, though not nearly as lovely as I. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Psyche took a breath. “Great Goddess... Beloved Aphrodite, I come to beg you to please bring back your son, Eros. My husband..."
Aphrodite snapped at this, "You mortal, dare to lay claim to my son? After the injury you caused him? You have ruined him, and still you would argue your worth?"
"I know I do not deserve him. He has been good to me, more than anyone, and I have betrayed him. But I love him with all my heart. I will do anything to get him back. Please, help me,"
Aphrodite pleaded, kneeling before the goddess of love with a look of desperation in her eyes so fierce the goddess herself was pained to see it, if only for a minute.
"I cannot force my son to take you back, nor do I wish to. However, if you are truly willing to do anything… You may still prove your worth to me, by showing me your devotion to my son. I will give you a set of tasks. Should you succeed in these tasks, I will intervene on your behalf to my son Eros, and he may decide if he wishes to take pity on you, or cast you aside once more. Are we agreed?”
“Yes, great goddess, as you command.”
“Now I warn you, these tasks shall not be simple by any means. Should you fail any of these tasks, not only will you forfeit my son, you shall also pledge yourself as a disciple to my sister Artemis. You shall never wed, nor bear children. You will be alone for the rest of your earthly days. Do you accept?"
"I do."
"Very good. As tribute for this kindness, I will ask only for one thing, something my son has grown most fond of… your laughter. Now, while I revel in the idea of punishing you myself... For the love I bear my son, I have promised to do no harm to your worthless form, therefore I will leave you in the capable hands of my maids, Worry and Sorrow. They shall prepare you before your first task.”
"Thank you my goddess. Your mercy knows no bounds." Though Psyche felt there would be no mercy for her if the goddess had any say
Psyche saw as the two beautiful yet sorrowful maidens appeared in the room. She felt a chill as all the worry and sorrow at Eros's departure came flooding back, making her dizzy from the weight of her emotions. The two servants said nothing as they approached her, gripping her roughly by the arm as they sat her down upon the stone dial in the center of the temple.
Sorrow motioned for Psyche to sit up straight while the two maids removed her dress, her deep grey eyes showing empathy for Psyche as she did so. Worry, her eyes set deeply in concentration began to apply sweet smelling oil to her skin, starting from her feet up to her legs, while Sorrow followed suit, rubbing the oil firmly but gently to Psyche's back, arms, shoulders, and chest. Psyche stifled a moan as she found herself soothed by the attentions. All of her aches seemed to have disappeared, as did her scars, the scent of the oil making her knees weak and her head feel fuzzy.
Psyche was so relaxed hardly questioned as her dress was removed and she was set to lay down with her back against the dial. She heard the firm click as she was strapped from head to toe with chains to the stone, leaving her sprawled naked as though she were a virgin sacrifice. She said nothing though, nor did she complain. She would bear this punishment with as much dignity as she could muster, knowing each step brought her one step closer to Eros.
Moments passed while Psyche waited, feeling suddenly lonely as she watched the two maids stare at her. They seemed to be waiting for something, though she knew not what. Psyche closed her eyes, willing herself to remain relaxed. She knew what to expect, but still it made the waiting no less difficult. Would they be quick and merciful in their tickling? Would it be slow and torturous? Perhaps they would take their time, just to make sure they didn't miss a single spot. Would they start slow and increase in tempo as they went along? Would both attack her at once? Perhaps they would take turns, or they would start with one until the other joined in. How long would they do it? Aphrodite had not specified. For all she knew the goddess meant to torture her for days, just to see her suffer.
Such thoughts continued flowing through her head when she felt a poke to both her underarms. Her eyes flashed open as she stared into the clear eyes of Sorrow, who did not meet her gaze as she repeated the motion. She gave a sadistic smile Psyche would never have thought her capable of as she scratched her armpits, causing laughter to spring forth from the maiden.
Though she had expected it, the sensations shocked her. In another time she would have tried to hold back the laughter, just to show strength, but found herself unable to. Her skin was more sensitive than it had ever been. It was as though her ticklishness had increased tenfold. The oil! Psyche realized in horror. It had softened her up, removing all the callouses from her flesh, leaving only smooth, vulnerable skin behind.
The thought was interrupted as she felt Worry's long sharp nails start roughly at her feet. The nails stroked her soles delicately at first, running up and down her sole, making Psyche double over in laughter. She twisted and turned, suddenly desperate to escape the fingers that tormented her.
"Please no... Not there!" Psyche cried as Worry ran her nail between her toes, teasing the skin.
"Now now Psyche," Aphrodite cooed, having stayed to watch in the sidelines, a cruel smile on her face as she approached. "It's only a bit of tickling. Surely it's not so bad as all that is it? Why they haven't even started here yet..." Aphrodite smirked, running a single sharp nail over her captive's belly, circling until it reached the center, causing Psyche to spasm. "Coochie coochie coo. Look at your poor belly, it's so lonely..." She noticed the gleam in the goddess's eye; she enjoyed it.
Psyche was unable to respond, so overcome was she by laughter. She was only able to shake her head, trying desperately to be strong.
"Why if I didn't know any better, I would even say you enjoyed it…” Aphrodite taunted, poking both of Psyche's nipples which peaked. Psyche moaned, hating herself for responding, though what more should she expect from the goddess of love and lust? Just like Eros she was a master- or rather mistress- in the art. Aphrodite continued to tease her breasts, pinching and twisting the two nubs before she let finally let her hand slip further down, caressing her thighs and massing just beyond her folds. She was so slick from the oils already even the smallest touch was enough to put her on the edge of release. But Aphrodite was not so kind, stopping just shy of her release before she continued the sweet torture again. She seemed to know exactly what buttons to leave Psyche begging and cursing all in the same breath. Psyche was caught between Heaven and Hell, wanting to continue almost as much as she wanted it to end.
The only kindness it afforded was that it only slightly distracted Psyche from the torture at Worry and Sorrow's hands, though they too soon adjusted their approach, keeping Psyche at her wits end as they would go between peppering Psyche's form with gentle, sensual kisses, paying special attention to her breasts and insoles as Aphrodite brought her closer to ecstasy, before sending her into new fits of hysteria with their cruel, tickling fingers which seemed only to grow stronger and more intense with each new assault.
Just as she began to let herself enjoy the attentions the goddess stopped. "Do not forget mortal, this is not for your pleasure, it is for mine," the goddess snarled, her expression ugly as she stepped away.
Sorrow's hands replaced where the goddess had left, her nails sliding over her sides, causing Psyche new waves of torment as each of her ribs were explored expertly.
Worry changed the assault on her feet to one on knees. Psyche giggled as a child would, tears running down her eyes as she struggled.
"I am afraid I must go now, but do not worry, you will be in good company. Here, a gift to remember me by..." Aphrodite drawled, gripping the girls hips as she blew a raspberry over her stomach, the vibrations causing Psyche's sides to ache.
She did not even notice as the goddess disappeared from sight, only aware of the lonely echo of her own laughter against the stone walls of the temple. There was no point in struggling anymore. There was nothing to do but grin and bear it, just as Eros would have wanted her to. Psyche gave into the forced laughter Worry and Sorrow continued to wring from her body, crying all the while as she felt so close and still so far from the one she loved.
The first task Aphrodite set was for Psyche to sort a huge mass of wheat, barley, poppyseed, chickpeas, lentils, and beans by dawn. She was placed in a location from from anyone so she had no chance to ask for help. If she did not complete the task, it would count as a forfeit.
Psyche began to work on the pile, hoping against hope that she could finish, but by midday she felt no closer to when she had started. She had not even finished half. At this rate she would indeed lose.
She began to cry, cursing her troubles and her heart when she heard a small voice.
"Lady, why do you cry?" Psyche gasped at the interruption, turning around, searching for the source.
“Here I am my lady,” the voice squeaked. It was an ant, who sat upon the pile she had been working on.
Psyche sobbed. "I must organize this pile before sundown or lose the chance to win back my love... It is hopeless.”
The ant looked sadly upon the young maiden. "We- brothers and sisters- shall help you," the ant spoke. "
Psyche sniffed, looking hopeful, "You shall? Why?"
"We care not to see so fair a maiden as you in pain. We will help you complete this task."
"You are too kind… Thank you.”
The ant smiled, "Go rest my lady. We shall finish in time."
Psyche watched from the sidelines as the ants worked row by row, seeming to be of one mind as they completed the task. She counted them to pass the time, but lost count after the first hundred as they hurried in pace, eager to fulfill their task.
Psyche awoke as the chittering sound in her ear. "The task is complete my lady." It was true. The courtyard had been stacked into a near dozen piles by the ants. "Oh thank you!" Psyche smiled, the first bit of hope since Eros had gone left.
"There is one thing you can give to pay us back..."
"Anything," Psyche said eagerly.
"Laughter," the ant replied. "We ants enjoy nothing more than to hear human laughter.”
Psyche hesitated. If Aphrodite came back and saw her…
“We shall be done before dawn,” the ant assured her. “It would be only for a little while. You have the most beautiful smile we have ever seen. We would love to make you smile more."
Psyche thought for a moment before nodding. "Of course." It was the least she could do.
Psyche removed the sandals from her feet, placing them to the side and stretching her legs out onto the ground in wait. Psyche giggled as she felt the leader run up her foot, feeling as they followed one after another, trickling up and down her sole. The more adventurous of the group crawled up between her toes, eliciting higher pitches of laughter, while some others circled around her knee.
Psyche laughed heartily, urging herself to stay as still as possible for fear of harming those who had helped her, managing only just so as the ants gently trailed over her skin.
She cried happily, feeling a single tear fall, not for the laughter but the fact that the first time in so long that she was being tickled, gently, caring with no malice or spite as a motive; it was simply for the enjoyment of laughter. This brought back thoughts of Eros to her mind, and she felt another tear fall. This was soon dashed away as she gave in to the playful, happy laughter she had so long gone without.
The ants were gone long before Aphrodite returned. The goddess had been furious, but prepared, sending Psyche on a trip to retrieve wool of pure gold from sheep across a river. Psyche was about to when a small branch jumped in front of her as she passed, stopping her path.
She tried to go around the branch, but it seemed to anticipate this, stretching out and blocking her at every turn. "Please, I must pass."
"If you pass you shall surely die. These sheep devour the flesh of humans. They will spare you no mercy should they see you."
"I have no choice. I must, even if it means I should die."
The branch chuckled, the sound seeming so familiar it chilled her. "What's so funny?"
"Sit human, and wait. See those brier? The ones where the sheep graze? Their wool sticks to it during the day. Wait for them to pass, then you may collect the fleece you require."
Psyche waited, watching the sheep as they grazed. They seemed so ordinary and harmless, nothing like the beasts the branch had described. Had it not been for the golden glow to their wooly coats and their size, which resembled that of a horse, she would have mistaken them for any other heard. It seemed danger and beauty went hand in hand here as in so many other tales...
"How long until they turn?" She asked suddenly.
"Worry not my lady, they shall soon enough. Rest your head against this tree. I will guard you," the branch assured, it's voice so soothing, she couldn't help but obey. She rested her head against the grand trunk, removing her sandals as she did so, stretching to cradle her head between her arms. She closed her eyes, listening to the soft calming trickle of the flowing river below, so gentle. There was still plenty of time, she thought, as she allowed a moment to relax...
"My lady! My lady, wake up!" The branch's voice shouted, startling Psyche awake.
"Are they gone?" Psyche muttered, sleep lacing her voice as she stretched.
"From the clearing yes my lady, but they are headed this way! Hurry, you must climb up my roots! I can protect you but only from up here! If they see you, they will surely devour you before you have a chance to cross!"
Psyche hesitated, even as she felt the rumble of hoof beats and the sound of bleeps coming closer. Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps she could reach the river in time to grab the fleece and run... Perhaps...
"Hurry!" The branch urged, just as she heard a rustle behind the bushes, the sound of hoofbeats now almost rumbling. A flash of wool...
Psyche doubled her pace, jumping towards the tree, struggling to get her footing. She pulled herself up just in time as hoofbeats came into view. She dared not look back though as she continued to climb, going higher and higher until she was as close to the top as she dared. She anchored herself against two strong branches, hearing the sharp snap of even sharper teeth bite into something down below.
My shoes! Psyche cursed, squeaking as she watched the ram of the group tear apart at the leather as easily as parchment. Oh well, Psyche thought, at least it was not me.
The branch appeared above her, having popped from his place below to reach her. "I am sorry my lady, I should have warned you about the sheep. They do not usually come this far in."
"It's quite alright my friend. Thank you for helping me. I am just glad to be up here where it is safe... How long do they usually graze for?"
"It depends, but since they have smelled human flesh, they will stay a while. You may wait here until they are gone."
Psyche sighed, gripping the trunk tightly as she positioned herself, trying to get comfortable. "I only hope I can hold on that long."
"Oh we can help you with that, do not worry," the branch cooed. There was something about its voice that seemed almost hypnotic. It made her want to trust it completely, ignoring all other impulse to do otherwise, knowing somehow that it was safe. Her eyes began to droop. The branches seemed to move of their own accord, catching and cradling her as her muscles became slack against the wood. "Relax Psyche. Let us take care of you..." Psyche nodded, closing her eyes…
She woke slowly, hardly registering the fact that she was now tightly bound head to toe. The branches had tightened their hold, leaving her limbs taut and exposed to the air as she balanced, gently caressed by the passing breeze. She only began to become aware as she was suddenly startled when she felt a sharp poke against her sole. At first she thought it was perhaps her imagination, until she felt it again, this time more purposeful. It was the sharp touch of the branch at her feet as it stroked up and down her sole.
"Oh no, no please!" Psyche giggled, trying to evade the intruder.
"Now my lady, surely you would not deny me the chance to entertain you. You are my guest after all," the branch spoke, as he seemed to stretch, two branches growing from the space below her, digging into her sides. Psyche laughed, wondering at the feel as she felt more and more trapped by the second. Two more branches appeared, each with a leaf on their ends, digging into her underarms, making her scream with laughter as the leaves began to spin.
"No, oh no stop please!" The branch ignored her. Psyche squealed, as yet another branch dropped from above. Like an arrow to it's mark it shot straight into her belly button, causing her to buck as it began to twirl, maddeningly so.
"Why are you doing this?" Psyche laughed, as she was quickly becoming covered in a flurry of leaves and branches, determined to leave no spot untouched. Her neck, hips, knees, and feet were caressed and stroked by leaves that had Psyche giggling to no end. It was a featherlight touch that made Psyche itch and laugh all at once. The branches were the worst however, as they scratched without pause, never tiring. Every struggle seemed to encourage them only to increase their pace.
"Because you have such a lovely laugh Psyche. It would be a shame not to let it out, don't you agree?" The branch said in its sing-song voice, as it too joined the fun, drawing lazy shapes against her skin, causing new ripples of laughter in it's wake.
It seemed an eternity before the frenzied tickling began to calm. The strokes decreasing slowly but surely until the it seemed only a memory in Psyche's mind, causing a dull numb in it's absence.
Psyche continued to giggle softly as the branches carried her back down towards the ground, laying her gently on the bed of grass below before they reverted back to their natural form. One would never guess such an ordinary tree capable of such wickedness. "The sheep..." Psyche mumbled weakly.
"You need not worry for them," the branch muttered. "They are sensitive to laughter. It wards them off."
Psyche would have glared if she had the strength. "You could have told me."
"We children of the forest are not much for talking. Now go, collect the fleece. You still have a long journey ahead of you."
Psyche did as she was instructed. After picking herself up, she collected her prize, entwining the golden strands in hand. She returned the fleece to Aphrodite as agreed.
Her next task was her most difficult yet, as she was instructed to fill a flash with the water that flowed through the River Styx. She climbed the cliff from where Aphrodite had directed her. She sat on the edge, wondering how she would reach the water, when suddenly she felt her feet grow warm, as trickles of steams from the rocks stroked her feet. She stared down and gasped in awe and horror as what she thought to be giant lizards were in fact dragons circling the rocks.
Psyche bit her lip to keep from screaming. Man eating sheep were one thing, but dragons? She groaned, feeling hopeless once again. Suddenly an eagle appeared, stopping her just as she was about to jump. “Do not! I am Agis, sent by Zeus himself to help.”
“Zeus?” Psyche asked incredulously. “He would help me?”
“When the gods desire to intervene, you must accept it. It would bring great dishonour not to.”
Psyche nodded, dumbstruck. “Of course…” She watched in wonder as the eagle took the flash from her hand, swooping down onto the ground and returning with the filled tin. “Oh thank you you beautiful bird,” Psyche smiled, petting the eagle softly before she called to the goddess once more, praising the gods for her good fortune and praying she was not too late.
***
"My son continues to bear the scar from the injury you inflicted upon him. For your final task, you will go to the Underworld and return with a box of beauty ointment from the goddess Persephone. This will serve to heal my son. Once this is done, I will present you to my son so you may plead your case.”
Psyche didn't know whether to cry or scream. Her mother-in-law must truly despise her to want to ensure her death. Each task had been escalated in difficulty, with hopes that she would perish, and when she did not, she would be faced with the one task where death was inescapable.
It was this task that left Psyche looking over the mountain where she had first waited before she had been taken by Eros. She felt it only fitting that her final resting place be where her new life had started. She took a breath, summoning to courage to jump. Just as she was about to, she heard a voice in the wind, stopping her.
"Halt my lady!" The voice shouted. "Do not jump!"
Psyche sighed, "I must... I need to visit the Underworld for a box of beauty. There is no other way."
"But there is my lady. Travel to Lacedaemon. Go to Taenarus. It is by this entrance that you may find safe passage to the underworld. Take two coins and place them in your mouth for Charon the ferryman as a payment for safe passage. Do not speak to any of the souls you may see. Present yourself before Lord Hades, there you may state your case."
Psyche did so, taking great care as she traveled by boat the rocks of Taenarus, feeling chills as she gazed upon the vast wasteland wherein lied the entrance to the Underworld, home of Hades.
As instructed, she placed the heavy cold coins in her mouth, mounting the long boat manned by none other than Charon himself. She stood alongside the other souls who looked as lifeless as she felt, feeling the struggle with her very soul to escape the darkness that threatened to overtake her.
"Open your mouth," Charon's chilling drawl commanded. Psyche did so, unable to avert her eyes as the skeletal figure of the man placed his hand upon her tongue, removing the gold coins from her mouth. She struggled not to cringe at the sensation as he did so.
She held tightly to the side of the boat as she felt the pull of the waters begin to take them through the River Styx, both seeing and hearing the groans from the souls which floated there. Only the most lost of souls were trapped in the waters. She covered her ears, trying to drown out the sounds of their pleas.
She exited the boat as Charon lead them the entrance of the Fields of Asphodel. She watched as invisible servants seemed to guide the souls forward. Psyche escaped from the group, turning in search of the throne room where Hades would be.
Just then she heard a loud snarl behind her, turning as she saw Cerberus, the great three headed dog of Hades looked over her, snapping his sharp fangs. She gasped, running forward, silently calling to the gods for help, for anyone. She stumbled forward, tripping over the stony path before, falling straight onto her arms. She turned just in time to avoid the snap of Cerberus’s bared jaws. She would have cried out had it not been for the fear that kept her silent.
Psyche forced herself to stand, running past the beast in the opposite direction, hiding behind one of the walls, not daring to look back until she had done so.
She watched as the dog followed her trail, seeming to stop suddenly as he changed paths, departing. Psyche sighed in relief, leaning against the wall behind her when it suddenly disappeared behind her, causing her to fall through.
Psyche landed with a groan, raising her head as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She gasped as she saw the steps before her, unable to believe her luck. It was Hades's throne room, as immaculate and menacing as she imagined.
Her pondering was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of laughter. Psyche followed the laughter, leading her to the private gardens of Hades. Everything from the ground to the trees and fruits were covered in shadows, seeming to be a mask of death. The dark eerie look made Psyche feel even colder than before. She gazed around the garden, her gaze resting as she found the source of the laughter.
There stood Persephone, queen of the Underworld. She was secured by dark tendrils against the stone wall. The tendrils appeared as living shadows, wrapped around her ankles, wrists, with a lone one covering her eyes while others stroked over her belly, thighs, and underarms. "Hades please," Persephone moaned, squirming in her her bonds as she struggle to evade the invading tickling touch as more joined in.
"This shall teach you to mock your king," Hades's dark chuckle echoed through the hall, the sound causing chills through Psyche's spine. He had sadistic look in his eye that would have made even the strongest of warriors quake in fear as he scratched Persephone's soles with his long dark nails, causing the queen of darkness to squeal.
"Oh please my king, forgive me... " Persephone begged between shallow breaths, her long golden hair whipping from side to side as he increased the pace in his strokes, while he command the tendrils around her to do the same, paying particular attention to her navel where three tendrils currently wiggled in and out like worms through a hole, causing loud spasms of laughter.
"Ah, ah, my love, you know I cannot let such things go unpunished. What would my subjects think?" Hades teased, placing a gentle kiss upon her feet before his long serpent like tongue darted out, twirling between her toes, causing new waves of laughter from the goddess.
Psyche could not help her curiosity as she spied on the pair. It was odd such an odd sight, to see the God of Death be so... Playful. To anyone else his words would have sounded like those to a disloyal subject, yet for the chilly demeanour and tone, he managed to convey affection in his actions.
Psyche felt a flash of jealousy, unable to help but imagine herself up there, wishing it could be Eros who was with her, playing as he had so often in the past. Psyche sighed, knowing she could not interrupt. She would wait for Hades in the throne room. As she turned to escape however, she found herself suddenly trapped, the ground beneath her feet seeming to melt, preventing her escape as tendrils similar to those holding Persephone captive soon bound her as well, pulling her towards the wall. Oh no!
As she was bound, Psyche felt the tendrils stroke against her sides, feeling like the slither a snake, claiming its prey. Psyche bit her lip, willing herself not to laugh as the tendrils continued to slither. She knew the moment she did so she would notify the god of her presence. It would not do to upset the lord of death when she still needed his help.
She struggled, trying to escape but finding it hopeless as her legs and knees were likewise bound, the tendrils tight against her skin. Psyche's stomach shook from the strain at their touch glided against her skin, stroking her as gently as a feather. She let it out a giggle.
The more Psyche struggled, the more they teased. Finally Psyche could hold it no longer as laughter burst forth, the sound echoing the garden where cold silence followed. Psyche gasped as the tendrils suddenly stopped their movements, tightening so that she she lost her breath for a moment. There stood Hades, giving her a murderous glare. He moved his hands, commanding the tendrils as they lifted her until she was staring straight into the face of the Dark Lord.
He looked every bit as dark and menacing as the stories foretold, appearing as death incarnated, gruesome with a sort of dangerous beauty around him she would have appreciated under other circumstances. "What is this? Who dares enter the kingdom of Hades unannounced?!" Psyche jumped, feeling her heart race at his dark tone, all hints of the playfulness from before gone. "Speak mortal!"
Psyche forced herself to speak. "I am Psyche, my lord. I apologize. I did not mean to disturb you… I was awaiting an audience in the Throne Room and I heard the commotion…” Psyche squeaked as he seemed only more annoyed by this.
"Why have you come?" Hades drawled.
"I am sent here by Aphrodite. I come to ask your wife Persephone for a box of beauty."
"Indeed, and what, mortal, gives you a right to that which only the gods may touch?"
"I have injured Aphrodite's son, Eros. The box of beauty is to heal him."
"And why should you concern yourself with such matters, mortal?"
"He is my husband," Psyche whispered softly, feeling an ache at the admission.
His boney stare was penetrating as he nodded. "I believe you mortal. You shall have your box and be on your way. The living cannot dwell in the land of the dead for long. Persephone my love, we have a visitor," Hades called. Psyche felt the tendrils release her, letting her fall back gracefully upon the ground which had solidified once more.
There appeared the queen of the dead, Persephone herself. She was a vision, seeming to shine as she strolled towards them. She showed no signs of her earlier activities, save the soft wrinkles in her gown from where she'd been bound. Her presence was welcoming and commanded attention all at once. She silently lead Psyche to her private chambers, from where she took an ornate silver box, which she then handed to her.
"This box is for the gods alone. You must not open it for any reason. Do you understand?"
Psyche nodded. "Of course my Queen, thank you. Your kindness shall not be forgotten." Persephone smiled gently at the girl, squeezing her hand in a way that meant to comfort her.
"I know first hand the trials love makes us face... Do not lose hope sweet Psyche. Love will prevail all."
Psyche smiled her appreciation, following the goddess as she lead her back out of of the labyrinth of the Underworld, exiting the throne room to return to the ferry, where Charon awaited, taking her back through the dark tunnel of Tartarus, into the comforting sunlight beyond.
Psyche gazed at the box of beauty in her hand. After leaving the underworld she had wandered back through the desolate land until she reached a meadow, fatigued from her travel and needing a break before she could continue. In the silence, her thoughts turned to Eros. What if once he was healed he still wished nothing to do with her? What if he didn't love her anymore? What if he no longer thought she was good enough him, not beautiful enough... Perhaps just a bit of beauty, just a bit would be enough to make him love her once more. Just a little couldn't hurt...
She opened the box, inhaling deeply as the mist fell from the box, striking her squarely in the eyes. She swooned and proceeded to fall into the welcoming darkness.
Psyche awoke, surrounded by darkness. Her eyes adjusted slowly. She felt the familiar tug around her wrists tied together with coarse ropes that held her tight. She looked around, failing to recognize her surroundings in the dimly light the room. Where was she? How had she gotten here?
Psyche jumped as she felt a cold hand touch her shoulder, turning to the sight of none other than Eros. Even in the dark she recognized him. He looked beautiful, large and majestic as she had remembered, yet something was off. His white wings appeared black as night, and he wore robes to match, looking like a fallen angel. She noticed the hot white scar the oil had left was gone. Her heart elated for a moment. Had he healed? His look was deciphering and cold as he gazed at Psyche. However not even this could damper Psyche's mood. She was too happy to see him.
"Eros? Eros is that you? Where have you been? I've missed you so. Eros, please, release me. I want to apologize..." She frowned as he continued to stare, unused to such emptiness in his gaze. Suddenly he moved, seeming to ignore her completely as he strolled around the room. Psyche heard clatter and jingles echoing off the wall. It sounded like he was putting something together, or taking it apart...
"Eros, why won't you speak to me? Please tell me where we are. You're scaring me... I know you're angry but please, we need to talk."
"Eros!" Psyche cried, silenced a moment later as the room suddenly lit up. Candles surrounded the room, from the highest walls to the bedside table. She shuddered at the sight of dark bed chamber where she lay. Though it was not the chambers that startled her, but the spread before her. Eros stood at the foot of the bed, an array at tools at his side. She was just barely able to make out the tops of the items, but the way she had been tied made it hurt her neck to try and get a closer look.
"Eros, what is this?" Psyche gulped, trying to reason this in her mind. "Please, say something..." She strained her neck, trying to meet his eyes.
Suddenly, without warning he pulled a long black feather from his back. It was as thick as his arm, the length surpassing it only just so, seeming more like a blade than a feather in his hands. He looked every bit Ares's son in that instance. A warrior with his prey, with no hint of mercy in his eyes as he approached. Still he refused to meet her gaze.
He looked cruel, giving her a fiendish grin, one rivaling even his mother's. It frightened her. "Eros.... Eros please stop!" Psyche thrashed, sucking in her gut in an effort to avoid the feather slowly descending towards her stomach. She wished she could close her eyes, wanting to allow herself some form of escape, but fear held her still. She squirmed at the first touch, the tingling sensation causing her hair to rise and immediate giggles to escape. Try as she might, escape was impossible as he dragged the feather painstakingly slowly over her stomach, running from her underarm, down to her breasts, over her belly, and swirling ever so teasingly over her sensitive navel.
Psyche jumped, trying not to laugh but finding it harder by the second. It might as well have been a hundred feathers instead of the one that touched her skin. The sensations seemed to double the more he pressed. Just when she thought she could remain comfortable with the motions, even enjoying the gentle touch, he upped the ante, turning the feather so he held the tip in his hand, like a quill, writing along her belly and scratching at the inside her navel.
Psyche squeaked, unable to hold her breath any longer as she opened her mouth, laughter springing forth as she did so.
Eros's grin intensified, obviously pleased as he continued to scribble away, the scritchy-scratchy motion causing Psyche's heart to leap. The worst was when he teased just around the sides of the sensitive bud. The laughter made her sides ache.
He twirled the makeshift quill away, seeming to write across each of her ribs, her sides, her stomach, and even the inside of her thighs. She never thought she could feel so ticklish as she did then, so exposed.
The worst however was the silence. He ignored her every attempt to talk with him, to reason. He actually seemed annoyed when she would get a word through. He then doubled his efforts to silence her as he suddenly straddled her waist, making her double over in laughter by digging his fingers into her underarms, causing her to literally shake in laughter. His nails were sharper and longer than she remembered, feeling like cold, sharp needles against her skin as they poked away cruelly and without rest. He scratched slowly at first, running the fingernails one by one over her sensitive underarms. She was so sensitive from the laughter a single nail was enough to make her jump. Soon another joined in, then another, another and so on until each arm had 5 fingers digging away, scratching in sudden frenzy. Each time she bounced against him, the feathers of his wings would drag unwittingly against the exposed flesh of her sides, causing added giggles to erupt.
"Eros please..." Psyche begged. Just when she thought she'd pass out, he stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief as he backed away from the top of the bed, allowing the sweat on her brow to fall. This respite however was short lived. A moment later she squealed as she felt a distinct scratch against her soles. Eros had selected the first of his tools, a stiff, hard scrubbing brush which he ran across her sole.
"No, ha, ha!" Psyche cried. The brush had been slicked in oil, making it slippery and easy to glide to and fro over her sensitive feet. Psyche laughed heartily at the sensations, jumping in her binds, the rope digging in cruelly as she felt the touch intensify. "Please, no." Psyche giggled, when Eros's used his smallest of his very large nails to scratch right between the skin of her toes.
Eros then spoke the first words since she had arrived, "Fteró!"
Psyche watched in horror as the long black feather lifted from where he'd left it, right next to her on the table. It shot right at her, stabbing straight for her skin, the plume tracing the lines Eros had drawn earlier with the tip, like a magnet to metal. It stroked against her skin, running across her underarms, tracing the outline of her breasts, and stroking teasingly against the skin of her abdomen where it would circle around her belly before being sucked into her belly button where it twirled like a dancer. It seemed an eternity it would stay there, teasing away at the milky skin before it started the process all over again, following the same path upwards and then down again. Every now again it would flicker as if of it's own accord, once, twice against her inner thighs, drawing the smallest of moans before it would return to the torment it was meant to bring.
It was no where near as hard or fast as the touch at her feet, but it was enough to intensify the sweet and painful torture, making her laughter double in size. She was finding it hard to breathe.
This wasn’t meant to be teasing, it was torturous, plain and simple. Psyche felt so betrayed, and alone. She had longed so much for Eros, longed for the days he had pushed her limits, driving her nearly insane with his passions, but she felt none of those passions then. She felt the same cold emptiness as the day he'd left her, and he enjoyed it. Why couldn’t he just talk to her? Psyche felt tears spring from her eyes. Her head started to feel fuzzy.
"Enough!" Psyche heard a scream, a scream so loud it nearly deafened her as it echoed against the chamber walls. It sounded so familiar... Psyche closed her eyes just as the ropes disappeared from around her wrists, dropping her from their embrace. She swooned, collapsing against the bed. She would have rolled off had strong, large arms not caught her, gripping her tightly against a warm chest.
"Psyche?" The voice whispered softly against her ear, urging her eyes open.
"Eros?" Psyche blinked, confused as she gazed into the clear, deep blue eyes of her husband. He no longer wore the pitch black robes she had seen him in, but instead the clear white robes she recalled. His wings had likewise returned to their snow white colour, and she noticed the scar on his shoulder returned, no longer healed. How could this be?
"Psyche, are you alright?" He looked concerned.
She was shocked, unable to comprehend what her mind was showing her. What had happened? How had he changed so quickly? Had she gone mad? Was this a dream? A wonderful dream... Or was he simply playing with her, and sure to attack her again at any second. Her heart ached at the thought.
"Psyche, Psyche answer me!" Eros growled, regretting his tone as he watched his wife flinch. "Psyche... Please talk to me."
"You didn't seem very interested in talking just now," Psyche managed, her tone shaky.
"Psyche that... That wasn't me... I wasn't..."
"It certainly looked like you. He certainly sounded like you. However dark and twisted it may have been..."
"Psyche I... This... That wasn't..."
"Don't tell me it wasn't real, I know what I felt."
Eros sighed. "Psyche it was... It was me, but at the same, it wasn't."
Psyche glared. "Explain."
"Psyche, you're in my dream."
"Your dream?" Psyche asked woodenly, a part of her straining to understand him, still apprehensive. "You mean... I'm asleep? But how?"
"The box of beauty. It was not beauty but sleep within."
"Then shouldn't this be my dream instead? My mind I’m trapped in?"
Eros seemed distraught at that. "It seems my mother is crueler than I thought."
"You’re one to talk, seeing what you’re ‘dream self’ just put me through.”
Eros frowned, angered and hurt by the comment. "That was my dark side Psyche. The side each of us, human and god alike, has deep down. It is cruel, ruthless, and desires nothing more than to punish... It's the part of my mind I hoped you'd never see. The same part I tried to leave behind that night... The part that still haunts me since you betrayed me.”
Psyche scoffed. "Well that is just perfect. I can carry out eternity here being tormented by the man I love. Your mother's revenge is complete... As is yours."
Eros seemed to anger at this, letting her go. "You think so poorly of me that I would wish to see you suffer? After all I’ve done!"
"What are you talking about?"
"The ants, the branch, the wind, Psyche! It was all me! Even the eagle! I asked Zeus to intervene on my behalf… Everything I did, I did so you could be safe...” He scoffed. “But it's not enough is it? How can you claim to love me when you cannot even recognize my love for you?"
Psyche gazed at him then, the hurt in her eyes shining. "Eros... I miss you more than words can say. I ache for you, for your touch, your love, but how can I love you when you cannot even forgive me? When you fail to see that I would rather spend eternity in torment at your side, than eternity without it... Your mother thinks it a punishment to send me to live and die alone should I fail her tasks. What she does not understand is, without you, I am already alone," Psyche hiccupped, feeling hot tears run down her cheeks.
Eros stared a moment, his silence biting as he watched his love cry. He could not bear to see her suffer so, not like this.
A moment later Psyche felt herself with her back pressed down against the bed, laughter interrupting her tears as Eros's hands dug into her ribs. Surprised, pearly laughter sprung out, laughter Eros had gone too long without.
Psyche giggled as he lightened his touch, dragging his fingers up and down across her sides. Moans filled the laughter as Eros grasped her firmly against him, dragging her by her hips, kissing her deeply like a man starved. Psyche felt her knees weaken, grateful for his tender touch to keep her steady.
As he broke the kiss, the look in his eye said more than words ever could. The moment she caught the boyish smile on his face, she knew all was forgiven, as did he. Psyche returned his grin, eager to kiss him again but finding herself unable to as she was tied once more, by the silk strands she had missed so dearly. She squirmed, trying desperately to escape, the familiar tightening around her wrists letting her know it was impossible.
“Now, now sweet Psyche, this is still my dream if you’ll recall… And I intend to do as I please.”
Eros grinned then, the sadistic look in his eye rivaled even Hades, causing a pleasant shudder to run through Psyche's spine. Eros winked, before he dropped his head, wiggling his slippery tongue across and within Psyche's navel, causing giggles to spring forth while his hands found the sweet spot at her sides, scratching at the reddened skin. Psyche laughed, squirming under the sweet torment.
Eros began to tease and torment her knees, causing gales of laughter to be occasionally his hand would slip down lower, tormenting her flawless soles with his hands, which only renewed his vigor and her laughter. Psyche felt helpless once again to do anything, though she did not mind this time. This is what she had longed for, what she’d dreamed of since the day he’d left.
After a while, Eros's left hand slipped up to her her thighs, teasing her lightly at her delicate folds, his thumb tracing firmly the inside of her thighs while he slipped his free fingers and out of her, hitting her sensitive nub expertly, causing pleasure to course through Psyche's form. He was a master when it came to her body, always knowing with a single touch how to put her on edge. Psyche found herself quickly begging for release. “Please Eros…” She rasped.
Eros relented, knowing it had been too long for them both. He gripped her firmly, dragging himself on top as they began to make love, enjoying her cries of pleasure and laughter they did so.
During their lovemaking, Psyche lost count of the time. Only aware as she awoke once more, in the exact meadow where she had fallen asleep. Eros was there, waiting for her. He had awoken from her cursed sleep the way she knew he loved to best, with laughter, having scratched up and down her underarms in quick succession. He allowed Psyche her own revenge as she tackled him onto the grass, straddling him from behind as he had done so often to her, dragging her nails up and down his sides, enjoying the feel as he writhed in torment beneath her. “Surely the mighty God of Love is cannot be so easily brought down by a little tickling…” She cooed into his ear, blowing a raspberry against his ribs, causing his laughter to double as she continued…
“Oh my, such lovely laughter. It’s a shame to have kept it locked away for so long. Such a gift from the gods should be treasured. Perhaps you just need someone to worship you properly for the god you are…” Psyche grinned, moving her position from his waist to his knees, bending them so his feet were exposed to her eager hands. "Why just look at these feet. So perfect, so smooth..." She blew over them softly, watching as Eros's toes curled. Excitement coursed through Psyche at the sight. "So eager for my attention..." She placed a gentle kiss upon his soles, right before she let her nail scratch lightly over the surface, before digging in firmly.
"No," Eros begged, overcome by laughter as Psyche exposed his weak spot. He twisted beneath her touch, jumping at the sensations as her sharp nails spidered over his soles, teasing around the arches, heels, and scratching maddeningly between his toes.
Psyche enjoyed feeling him squirm, making him beg for mercy beneath her hands. She adored knowing she was the only one who saw him like this, who would ever have him like this, at her complete and utter mercy; her a mortal bringing down the God of Love with the mere touch of her hands. She had never felt more powerful.
She was so caught up in the moment she never noticed as Eros twitched his wings, the long, white feathers finding her soles, making her laugh in surprise. It was quick but enough to allow Eros to free himself from her grasp, his hands expertly finding her underarms as their struggle for dominance began, each delighting in making the other laugh, squirm, and beg beneath the other's hands.
The remained breathless afterwards, Psyche resting her back against Eros’s, both spooned together as they gazed at the setting sun. Psyche wished the day would never end. She hated to break the moment, wishing they could stay like this forever.
"We must go back," Psyche said softly. "Your mother is waiting."
Eros smiled then, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. The gentle touch of his lips brought courage to her heart. He hugged her firmly in his arms before they flew off towards Aphrodite’s temple.
Zeus was there, waiting alongside Eros's mother. He was to bear witness. Aphrodite looked scornful, gazing at Psyche with nothing less than disgust as she stood against Eros, praying to all the gods for strength as she faced the Great Goddess.
"I do not accept," was the first thing she said as Psyche presented the box.
"Psyche completed the tasks. You must honour that."
"No. She may have fooled you into forgiving her Eros but I shall not be swayed so easily. She opened the box and therefore has failed. She will give you up and live a life of celibacy, just as was agreed."
Eros growled in frustration, turning then to Zeus. "Then I asked to become mortal, so that I may live and grow old along side my wife Psyche. So I may share the rest of my life with her... And our child."
"Child?" Psyche gasped, the surprise on her face matching that of Aphrodite.
Eros smiled at her, his eyes tender. "Yes, my love. I am the God of Love. I know of these things all too well." He kissed her tenderly on the brow, placing a gentle hand upon her stomach. Psyche was touched by the adoration in his eyes. "If I had not been so blinded by my rage, I would have seen it before..."
Aphrodite was in shock, approaching Psyche with a sort of dazed look. Eros removed his hands from her stomach, placing them upon Psyche's shoulders instead to allow her room, but his stance was no less protective, his eyes warning. Aphrodite was surprisingly tender as she placed a hand upon the mortal's stomach, where Eros's had been moments before. For the first time since she'd known her, Psyche could have sworn she saw a smile, a genuine smile, on the goddess's lips.
Zeus interrupted then, "If that is your wish..."
"Wait!" Aphrodite cried. "I... I cannot allow this. My son... My son has found his true love. The one who makes him truly happy... He deserves to spend all of eternity with her... And she with him. Mighty Zeus, I ask you to make Psyche immortal, so she may live long and merrily with my son, as will their many, many children to come."
"So shall it be," Zeus intoned. His tone would have sounded grave to anyone who heard, though Psyche still managed to catch the lightness in his tone, indicating his pleasure at the news.
Psyche smiled then, placing a gentle hand into the goddess's. "Thank you," she whispered. Her heart sung as she felt Eros drag her into his arms, spinning her around and around in his arms.
Psyche was taken to Olympus, where she drank the nectar of the gods, allowing her to become immortal. There she was wed anew, witnessed by all the gods of Olympus as she pledged her undying love Eros and he to her, they way it had always meant to be.
They returned to their hidden kingdom once, where they later had a daughter named Voluptus, meaning pleasure. There they proceeded to rule for all eternity in laughter, song, and love.
************************
This is my first TK story. I hope you enjoy it.
Any and all feedback is welcome. Thank you so much for reading. It may also be found on my TT page.
Note: Fteró - Means Feather in Greek
"Such is my right to punish you for attacking a God." He grinned, enjoying the ways her soles reddened from his ministrations, letting the plume of his arrow draw lightly between her toes, incurring giggles from both the nymph and her sisters who lay hidden in the trees. The God of love had grown bored waiting all day in the forest of King Harold, feeling more like a bandit in the shadows rather than a god as he waited for his prey to arrive. His mother had sent him once again to do her dirty work as he waited for the youngest of the King's daughters, the famed beauty Psyche to appear. She had incurred his mother's wrath due to the claims of her beauty surpassing that of the Great Goddess. Aphrodite was nothing if not vain and sent Eros to dispose of the wench by any means possible so her beauty may never be questioned again.
He had lain in wait for the beauty to appear, but she was late, inexplicably so. He had been watching her for days, marking her routine in wait for the most opportune moment to strike. He had proposed rather than the drastic route his mother suggested to simply curse her to love the beast nearest by to her with one of his arrows. Those who worshiped her would think her mad and she would be locked away, gazed upon with pity rather than the adoration his mother despised.
Psyche would like clockwork come riding through the forest before noon, after her prayers from the temple. She was not like most ladies and enjoyed running wild in the forest, unlike her most prim and proper sisters who he had found a complete and utter bore to watch; not that Eros found humans particularly interesting, at least not on their own.
Just then there was a rustle in the trees as one of the wind nymphs, one of Anemoi's daughters blew in, transforming and whispering something to the other forest nymphs who squealed with glee at the news and shifted into a leaf, blowing off on the wind towards whatever had caused the commotion. As another nymph followed suit, Eros stopped his attack on his victim, leaving her to investigate, the laughter he caused being replaced by new chortles as the nymphs who had stayed behind attacked their sister, continuing to tickle her in his absence.
He wandered through the trees, following the breeze that had taken the nymphs, feeling the twigs crunch beneath his feet as he traveled through the narrow trees. It was too dangerous to fly on so narrow a path, and he cared not to draw attention to himself. He pushed aside a final bush with his hand and heard what was the clear sound of laughter, the most beautiful laughter he'd ever heard.
It was Psyche, the human girl who had left him waiting. There she was, her raven black hair glistening in the sun as she lay strewn in the grass, her usually tamed hair matted with leaves that clung to the sweat as she shook, both of her sisters having pinned her down as they tickled her without mercy, one holding her down while the other spidered up her sides before digging into her sensitive ribs.
The god found himself staring at the young maiden, watching with fascination. Her laughter was beautiful, light, and full of playfulness. She moved beautifully as she laughed. He started to wonder how she would move for him, the feel of her creamy skin beneath his fingers, the feel of her flesh against his- No. It could not be. For a moment he felt a pang of pity. He was a lover like his mother. He had never been a fighter. The gods were indeed cruel even to their own kind to have him be the one to curse someone with such beauty. He had stopped caring for physical beauty long ago, and though it itself was enchanting, it was her laughter that literally brought joy to his heart.
The sisters finally stood, letting her up, looking almost apologetic as Psyche crossed her arms defensively.
Sora shrugged. "You know the rules Psyche, one tumble for each proposal you refuse. We all went through it. Guess you'll just have to say yes one of these days, like we did. Surely they cannot be all so displeasing to you...”
Psyche snapped, "Oh? What kind of a gentleman asks at the temple before the gods during prayer?"
"A man asking for blessing from the Goddess of Love, is that so terrible?"
"He only cared for my beauty..."
"You are a great beauty Psyche," Ferrah argued. "Besides, he's rich and handsome, and he worships you! What more do you want?"
Psyche frowned, looking into the stream. "I don’t want to be worshiped, I want to be loved. Is that so much to ask..."
No, Eros thought. It wasn't.
***
Psyche stood on the mountain, watching as the rocks tumbled into the crater below. She curled up, trying to warm herself as best she could as the chill slithering through her skin like a serpent. Her feet had already numbed from the cold long before, and now it had snaked all around to her fingertips. She felt a single tear leave her eye as she stared into the ground below, contemplating her situation, dressed in white as a bride, in the cold alone. She would have laughed if her heart did not ache so, for instead of a wedding, she had been sent there to die.
After her last refusal to the Duke, her father had been fed up. He had taken her to see the Oracle of Apollo, to reason with her and show her that even the fates declared she must wed. Indeed she would, the Oracle foretold, though it would be no man that she would wed, but a Beast of the Gods own making and that she must climb the mountain alone to await for the beast to take her, as was the gods will.
She had said a tearful goodbye to her sisters and father, who called it a punishment for the pain and humiliation her refusals had caused, and thus she climbed, and climbed, and waited for the beast who would carry out the Gods justice.
Just then a gush of wind appeared, surprising her as it carried her off, soaring through the mountains to a place farther than she had ever been. It set her down before a magnificent castle. She stood admiring the place. Could this be where a monster lives? She thought, gasping as she felt a feather light touch on her sides, poking her. She squealed and turned, trying to find the source.
"Forgive me," the disembodied voice spoke. "I am Nara, your maid. My master has told me to make you feel welcome. This is your home Mistress Psyche. Supper has been prepared. Won't you let us tend to you before you eat? Master would be furious if we let you freeze."
Psyche nodded, confused as she was lead by Nara to a bath, where she was stripped by invisible hand maidens who set her down and helped her wash. Psyche relaxed for the first time since her arrival, enjoying the soothing water, the steam from the stones beneath, the smell of lavender and oils that both soothed her and made her grow weary. The maidens took care to wash her skin, removing all traces of dirt and grim, drying her off and dressing her in silk finer than she'd ever owned before leading her to the chambers where her super awaited, accompanied by the sounds of music trailing through the hall. It reminded her of home. She felt a pang of loneliness at that.
Her hunger surprised her as she devoured the food brought before her, plates of delicacies like she'd never seen, richer than anything she'd ever tasted. All the while her brain continuing to try and understand these wonders and what was happening. Where was she? Why was she here? Did the monster wish to fatten her up before he devoured her? Would he eat her first? Perhaps this was her last meal and the gods wanted to show her pity before the slaughter. She sighed, pushing away the plate as she finished, watching it along with the rest of the contents on the table disappear one by one. She watched as the last utensil faded from sight, darkness suddenly covering the room. She walked towards the bed, feeling for the covers as she sat on the edge, looking at the moonlight through the window, listening for sounds of anyone, or anything, but nothing came.
***
Psyche did not remember falling asleep as she awoke, the light breeze caressing her side, making her turn, gasping slightly as she realized she was unable to. She felt the the strong grip of silk binds wrapped around her ankles and wrists, holding her strapped tightly to the bed. She twisted experimentally, trying to escape but feeling them seem to actually tighten. She growled in frustration, hearing a chuckle as she did so. She gulped. "Who's there?"
"I am a friend Psyche." the voiced cooed, just beyond the bed.
She gulped. "If you're a friend... Please let me go."
"I'm afraid I can't, Psyche..."
"Oh please, before the monster comes back."
He paused at that. "The monster?"
"Yes, the monster, the one who summoned me. He's why I'm here. He's made them tie me in my sleep... He's going to eat me if you don't let me go.”
A moment of silence passed before the man, whoever he was, began to laugh. "It is not funny!" Psyche shouted, twisting again.
He forced himself to stop. "My apologies my lady, but who told you this?"
"My sisters. They told me of a monster that forces young maidens to be his bride and kills them on their wedding night. Now please, let me go. I'll do anything."
"Anything, you say?"
"Yes, please! Just let me out of here!"
"Alright then, we have a deal."
Psyche gasped with relief. "Oh thank you." She waited, moments passing before she spoke again. "Why have you not released me?"
"Because Psyche, you have not yet paid the price..."
"The price?" Was this a trick?
"Yes, you said you'd do anything I want. And there is something I want very, very much," he stopped. "You wouldn't be breaking your word, would you?"
Psyche whimpered. "N-no... What do you want?"
"You'll see..." Psyche heard footsteps around her, clinking sounds from left and right as if he was moving things. She struggled against the blindfold that covered her eyes, anxious to see what this stranger was doing. "At least take off my blindfold so I may see what you're doing!"
He tutted softly. "I'm afraid there are rules, you cannot see me while you're here. You wouldn't like me to get in trouble now would you? I expected a princess to have more honour than that."
"N-no..."
"Good, now wait one moment, I'll be right back."
Psyche breathed, trying to be calm. Perhaps he was looking for a knife to cut the ropes... Perhaps he was looking for the monster... Perhaps...
Psyche yelped suddenly, as she felt a feather light touch at her feet, it was quick and sudden before it disappeared. She breathed again, waiting. Nothing. She relaxed.
She felt it again at once, first one one foot and then the other, the unmistakable gentle stroke of a feather on her right sole. She held her breath, willing herself not to laugh. "Laugh for me princess," the voice commanded. She clenched her toes tightly, struggling to hold back when the tempo increased, and she giggled, unable to suppress it any longer. "Ha, please no!" she began to laugh, much to the glee of her captor. She could do nothing else. He twirled the feather almost lovingly between her feet, moving from one to the next. The way her ankles were crossed made it impossible to cover one with the other as she might have done otherwise. She did however manage at one point to trap the feather between her toes, trapping it and stopping the assault.
"Highness, I think you’re right, your toes were starting to look a bit lonely,” the voice said. Psyche giggled as she felt a new feather saw between her toes, one by one, distracting her enough to let the first one go. "No please, not my toes," she giggled.
"As lovely as you sound, I think we can do better. Perhaps here!" the man cried, as Psyche suddenly felt long, sharply trimmed nails work expertly upon her vulnerable underarms, causing stronger laughter to spring forth. "No, haha please stop!"
"Oh that is a nice spot indeed," the voice teased. "And here I began to think you were unhappy being here. Perhaps this will cheer you up." Psyche nearly bounced then as one of the free hands began to circle over her stomach, drawing a line until it reached her bare belly button. Psyche bounced on the bed, laughing at the touch as the other hand goosed her sides, caressing her like a lover before it began to tickle her madly.
Psyche had never felt so vulnerable. She had been tickled many times by her sisters but never like this! Not with such attention or devotion to each spot, it was as if he was trying to drive her mad! Though at the same time, she could not help but notice that every now and again his touch would turn from tickling to caressing, stroking her body with a tenderness she never expected from man or beast.
As Psyche continued to laugh, Eros watched, unable to help but feel something was missing. She laughed as divinely as he had hoped, the sound like music to his ears. Each touch drove her closer to insanity and him to lust. He had never found anyone so responsive as she. He grinned as he thought of her earlier words, his teeth baring as he continued to dig deeply into her ribs, before he set his tongue to her belly, licking softly as he caused new tickling sensations through his bride.
Psyche felt as if she was on fire. She chortled as she felt his tongue suddenly on her belly, feeling ticklish to degrees she never felt possible. "W-why are you doing this?" she continued to giggle.
Eros raised his head. "You expected a monster, sweet Psyche. I should hardly hope to disappoint my bride." He smirked as he nibbled softly at the flesh of her side, causing her to shudder softly. She felt a tear run down her eye.
Eros stopped at that, brushing away the tear with his hand, kissing her forehead. "Do not cry dear Psyche."
She sighed, trying to convey sudden seriousness in her tone. "Please..."
"Please what?" He teased.
"I wish to see your eyes..."
He paused, suspicious, "Why?" He continued to stroke her hips, causing small giggles but wanting to hear what she said.
"Because I wish to make love to my new husband, and I would like to look into his eyes, even if I may not see his face."
A moment passed before Psyche felt the blindfold disappear, along with the binds, leaving her to gaze at the shadow towering over her of a man, not a beast. He was invisible to her in the darkness, save for the two soft blue eyes staring back, and waiting.
Eros need only have waited a moment as he felt Psyche propel herself into his muscular arms, kissing him deeply. He wrapped her tightly in his wings and turned her onto her side. He then proceeded to touch her in ways that felt nothing like a tickle.
***
“Love, why may I not see your face?” Psyche asked softly, her head tucked under his shoulder as they gazed at the stars. It had been days since she had arrived, yet still Psyche would meet her husband only in darkness, in shadows, or blindfolded. Not that she particularly minded the later anymore. She had come to enjoy their sessions almost as much as he did, especially when they would switch and he would let her tickle him instead
“Because it would ruin everything," Eros whispered gravely.
"Do you think yourself hideous?" She teased.
"Are you calling your lord and husband ugly my sweet?" He grinned, digging his fingers playfully into her ribs. Psyche laughed, squirming in his arms, eager to escape, though only halfheartedly.
"No, no, I repent!" She continued to struggle.
"I don't think you do my love," Eros grinned. "Perhaps you need some incentive.”
Psyche found herself bound in seconds, the blindfold around her eyes firmly secured as she waited to see what her husband had in mind.
She felt the distinct stroke of a brush against her sole, coated with something that felt cold, sticky, and heavy all at once. Psyche giggled as both her soles were painted by the brush, leaving her toes, soles, and arches covered in the gooey substance.
A shudder ran through Psyche as she felt her husband's warm breath blow gently over her her soles, causing them to tingle.
A moment later that same mouth drew a gale of laughter as Psyche felt her left foot assaulted by her husband's tongue. "No, please!" she laughed, feeling the warm tongue lap away at the substance lick by lick. Each swipe caused Psyche to squirm, as she tried desperately to avoid the wicked tongue at her soles.
"Now love, surely you realize the importance of keeping clean," he taunted as he drew lazy circles over the bared flesh of her flawless soles, made more sensitive from his ministrations, causing his wife to squeal. This was new. Her husband had tickled her many times but never like this! The sensations were literally electric, making her bounce against the mattress while his wicked tongue worked at her soles.
"Worry not my love, I shall not forget your beautiful toes," Eros whispered, as he clamped her helpless toes one by one between his lips, sucking gently as he drew new moans mixed with laughter from the woman above him.
“Oh please…”
"Are you sorry now my sweet?"
"Oh yes," Psyche moaned, her thoughts lost in the sensations his hands and tongue brought.
Psyche revelled in the sweet bliss before laughter overtook the pleasure as he finished her left foot with a single swipe of his tongue and continued with her right, repeating the process once more.
Once her feet were cleaned, Eros removed the binds, eagerly accepting the kiss his wife offered, letting her taste the honey he had licked so tenderly from her soles.
He laughed with surprise as she dug her own nails into his sides, enjoying the sadistic look in her eyes as she drew laughter from him. Her hands proceeded to wander and scratch at his underarms, causing his laughter to double. He enjoyed her most when she was like this, as eager to give as she was to receive. He had never trusted anyone so. Tickling like most things for him had been about pleasure, the pleasure he gained from tickling others, but never did he think it was possible to enjoy receiving it from someone else. Then again, he never thought he would find someone like Psyche either.
He rolled her onto her stomach as she reached for his foot, making her squeal beneath him by nibbling at her side, enjoying the growl of frustration as she struggled to regain dominance. "Now now, enough of that," he cooed into her ear, before kissing her with fervor, enjoying the feel as she succumbed, returning his kiss with equal passion. He would have made love to her right then, but they needed to talk. He pulled away, savouring the whimper she gave as he did so, "Would you care if I was hideous?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious.
It took her a moment to realize what he was asking, her face softening into her best smile. "Never. I care not for such things. I just... I wish I could see you, all of you."
Eros gripped her hand in his, holding her tightly. "If you were to see me, I would need to go away… We would be parted forever my love. Surely having me is worth the price... Is it not?"
"Yes my love…” She stroked his brow tenderly. “You are all I need. Nothing else matters."
***
It was days later that Psyche found herself beginning to feel lonely in her new home. Whenever her husband left to whatever task he required, she was alone, and despite the company of Nara and all her maids, she missed the company of her sisters. She cried at the thought of her family who must have thought her dead.
That night Eros felt the change in his wife, though she appeared the same as always, her demeanour had changed. She was not happy. Not even her laughter was sincere or playful as it had always been, it was empty and forced. He hated it.
"What is it my love?" Eros asked, as she circled their chamber once more, worry hiding all other emotion from her face.
"I miss my family... My sisters. It feels so long since I last saw them... I fear for them, for what they must think. Should they think me dead, I can only imagine the grief it has caused my father..."
Eros frowned. "Psyche... You know you cannot leave..."
"I know. I would not wish to but... I missed them so much, it hurts."
Eros sighed, pulling her into his arms, holding her close to him as he tried to sooth away her pains while she cried softly in his arms. He could not bear to be the cause of such unhappiness... "I will bring them here for you sweet Psyche. You have my word."
***
Eros did as he promised. Ferrah and Sora arrived the next morning at daybreak, carried by the same wind that had taken Psyche to her home all those weeks ago. Her sisters greeted her with open arms, hugging her fiercely with happiness at seeing their sister alive and well.
As they dined in the majestic gardens of the palace, the three sisters shared stories of their lives, all the adventures they had taken, and then they turned to the youngest sister, and asked her about her husband.
"Who is this man? He must be very wealthy to afford such finery," Sora questioned good-naturedly.
"I cannot say," Psyche admitted.
"Well, tell us what he does. Is he a prince, a duke?" Ferrah asked gleefully.
"I cannot say," Psyche repeated.
"Well, what he look like?" Sora asked, this time more frustrated than before.
"I cannot say," Psyche snapped, unable to hide her annoyance.
"You mean to say you will not or you cannot?" Sora pressed, gasping as realization struck. "You haven't seen what he looks like!”
"N-no, that's not what I meant..."
“Have you?"
"He is very private... But he is kind. It matters not what he looks like."
"That's what he wants you think. Everyone knows that's how the monster lures the prey into his trap..."
"He is no monster!" Psyche shouted. “He is my husband!”
“Yes, well you’ll never really know though will you, at least not unless you see for yourself.”
“We would not say otherwise,” started Ferrah. “If we did not worry. We know you’d do the same for us…”
An awkward silence passed between the sisters. The rest of the afternoon went quietly. Psyche tried to forget their words, but try as she might, a nagging hint of doubt crept in the back of her mind, never leaving her side in the days that passed.
***
It was this doubt that brought on nightmares, terrible, fearsome ones that left Psyche tossing until early hours. Her fear grew so that it lead to Psyche sneaking in to her husband's room one fateful night, oil lamp in hand. Since she had arrived, Eros had forbade the use of any lights in his presence. Only moonlight seemed capable to hide his true form, as all other sources would expose him. She sometimes left one lit by mistake, from her reading or wash, but he would always be quick as lightning, almost flying as he zipped quickly enough to extinguish the light before she could see him.
She heard him snoring softly, seeing the familiar outline in the shadows as she approached. She had taken care not to make any noise, walking barefoot towards the bed. She would only take a quick peek; he need never know. Then everything could return to as it was.
Sighing, she raised the lamp high, edging over to reveal his form. She let out a gasp. It was Eros, the god of love! Startled, she tipped back, not noticing as a single drop of oil fell onto his shoulder, awakening him.
"Psyche... What have you done?" Eros snarled, extending his long beautiful wings as he rose.
“Eros, I’m sorry!” she cried, as she stared into the handsome face of the man she’d made love to, the man who’d taken care of her, who’d given her everything, now exposed by her actions.
“The castle, the jewels, my affections, was none of it enough?”
“My sisters said…”
“I care not for your excuses! I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me? With betrayal?”
Psyche sniffed. “I just wanted to see your face…”
“You disobeyed me. You know that the crime for disobeying a god is death."
She closed her eyes, accepting her fate. Why did I listen to my sisters?
"I do." She knelt before him, her neck exposed. “I am yours to do with as you will my lord…”
For a moment he seemed to contemplate her. It would be so easy… "I love you too much... I cannot kill you…”
She broke her stance to gaze at him. “Eros…”
“Do not interrupt me. You will still be punished."
Psyche felt as she was bound on the bed, not by the silken scarves she had come to cherish, but by cold hard steel, which made her skin cold to the touch. Then she felt it, all at once as disembodied hands seemed to scratch her from all ends, at her feet, her ribs, her underarms, and her knees, causing laughter to pour out.
This was no longer the sweet tender tickling from their lovemaking, nor was it the playful tickling from the lazy afternoons when he would come home early. On those days he would let her pin him and tickle him back. He had the most sensitive sides, and killer arches. She enjoyed having him beneath his hands, vulnerable, sweet, with a boyish grin as she had attacked him with vigor. She had felt powerful because of him, stronger than she had ever thought possible. But most of all, she had felt loved, more loved than she could have dreamed. He had told her he had never trusted anyone enough to let them tickle him before her. She had stolen his heart.
And with a single drop of oil she'd destroyed that trust forever.
Psyche continued to laugh, tears pouring out as she felt the hands dig cruelly into her knees; the hands at her feet cutting like knives as they scratched her soles, arches, and toes.. This tickling was not loving in any way; it was cold, calculating, and vengeful. It pained her to no end, though no pain could match that of her heart as Eros watched, his eyes darker and colder than she ever imagined. No sign of comfort in them, just emptiness and hate..
Escape was impossible. The hands knew all of her spots, all the places that made her giggle, squeal, squeak, laugh, and everything else in between. She was supposed to suffer, and she would, for as long as Eros willed it.
The torture went on so long Psyche lost count. She thought she would pass out from the laughter, but the hands seemed to know just when to stop and give her enough pause to catch her breath before they would start again. At one point she started to long for the tickling, long for anything that would numb the ache she got when it stopped. The ache of knowing she had lost.
After what seemed like hours Psyche mercifully blacked out. When she came to, the castle, the hands, and Eros were gone.
***
Psyche found herself wandering the grounds outside the temple of Aphrodite, her heart heavy as she waited.
After she had awoken, she went to the homes of her sisters to see if either would help her, hoping for comfort, advice, for anything. She could not return to her father, not after the misery he had suffered, knowing the humiliation she had caused him.
Neither of her sisters would take her in. Eros had been so vengeful he'd visited them after he'd dealt with her, giving them the same treatment she had suffered. Whatever he had done, it made them not wish to be anywhere near her. She could not help but resent them for this, as it was their fault this had happened. If they had not put such fears and doubts in her mind, she would have never lit that lamp in Eros's room, and he would still be with her…
And so she had gone from their homes, taking the only option she knew, and seeking refuge in the temple of Aphrodite, in hopes she could plead with the goddess to bring her son back. She strolled into the temple with what little courage she had left, calling out to the Great Goddess.
Psyche need not have waited long as she saw the blinding light fill the temple, as Aphrodite, the most beautiful woman known to man appeared, staring down at her with bitter glee.
“Well if it isn’t the harlot who has stolen my son’s heart. The songs were right, you are indeed a beauty, though not nearly as lovely as I. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Psyche took a breath. “Great Goddess... Beloved Aphrodite, I come to beg you to please bring back your son, Eros. My husband..."
Aphrodite snapped at this, "You mortal, dare to lay claim to my son? After the injury you caused him? You have ruined him, and still you would argue your worth?"
"I know I do not deserve him. He has been good to me, more than anyone, and I have betrayed him. But I love him with all my heart. I will do anything to get him back. Please, help me,"
Aphrodite pleaded, kneeling before the goddess of love with a look of desperation in her eyes so fierce the goddess herself was pained to see it, if only for a minute.
"I cannot force my son to take you back, nor do I wish to. However, if you are truly willing to do anything… You may still prove your worth to me, by showing me your devotion to my son. I will give you a set of tasks. Should you succeed in these tasks, I will intervene on your behalf to my son Eros, and he may decide if he wishes to take pity on you, or cast you aside once more. Are we agreed?”
“Yes, great goddess, as you command.”
“Now I warn you, these tasks shall not be simple by any means. Should you fail any of these tasks, not only will you forfeit my son, you shall also pledge yourself as a disciple to my sister Artemis. You shall never wed, nor bear children. You will be alone for the rest of your earthly days. Do you accept?"
"I do."
"Very good. As tribute for this kindness, I will ask only for one thing, something my son has grown most fond of… your laughter. Now, while I revel in the idea of punishing you myself... For the love I bear my son, I have promised to do no harm to your worthless form, therefore I will leave you in the capable hands of my maids, Worry and Sorrow. They shall prepare you before your first task.”
"Thank you my goddess. Your mercy knows no bounds." Though Psyche felt there would be no mercy for her if the goddess had any say
Psyche saw as the two beautiful yet sorrowful maidens appeared in the room. She felt a chill as all the worry and sorrow at Eros's departure came flooding back, making her dizzy from the weight of her emotions. The two servants said nothing as they approached her, gripping her roughly by the arm as they sat her down upon the stone dial in the center of the temple.
Sorrow motioned for Psyche to sit up straight while the two maids removed her dress, her deep grey eyes showing empathy for Psyche as she did so. Worry, her eyes set deeply in concentration began to apply sweet smelling oil to her skin, starting from her feet up to her legs, while Sorrow followed suit, rubbing the oil firmly but gently to Psyche's back, arms, shoulders, and chest. Psyche stifled a moan as she found herself soothed by the attentions. All of her aches seemed to have disappeared, as did her scars, the scent of the oil making her knees weak and her head feel fuzzy.
Psyche was so relaxed hardly questioned as her dress was removed and she was set to lay down with her back against the dial. She heard the firm click as she was strapped from head to toe with chains to the stone, leaving her sprawled naked as though she were a virgin sacrifice. She said nothing though, nor did she complain. She would bear this punishment with as much dignity as she could muster, knowing each step brought her one step closer to Eros.
Moments passed while Psyche waited, feeling suddenly lonely as she watched the two maids stare at her. They seemed to be waiting for something, though she knew not what. Psyche closed her eyes, willing herself to remain relaxed. She knew what to expect, but still it made the waiting no less difficult. Would they be quick and merciful in their tickling? Would it be slow and torturous? Perhaps they would take their time, just to make sure they didn't miss a single spot. Would they start slow and increase in tempo as they went along? Would both attack her at once? Perhaps they would take turns, or they would start with one until the other joined in. How long would they do it? Aphrodite had not specified. For all she knew the goddess meant to torture her for days, just to see her suffer.
Such thoughts continued flowing through her head when she felt a poke to both her underarms. Her eyes flashed open as she stared into the clear eyes of Sorrow, who did not meet her gaze as she repeated the motion. She gave a sadistic smile Psyche would never have thought her capable of as she scratched her armpits, causing laughter to spring forth from the maiden.
Though she had expected it, the sensations shocked her. In another time she would have tried to hold back the laughter, just to show strength, but found herself unable to. Her skin was more sensitive than it had ever been. It was as though her ticklishness had increased tenfold. The oil! Psyche realized in horror. It had softened her up, removing all the callouses from her flesh, leaving only smooth, vulnerable skin behind.
The thought was interrupted as she felt Worry's long sharp nails start roughly at her feet. The nails stroked her soles delicately at first, running up and down her sole, making Psyche double over in laughter. She twisted and turned, suddenly desperate to escape the fingers that tormented her.
"Please no... Not there!" Psyche cried as Worry ran her nail between her toes, teasing the skin.
"Now now Psyche," Aphrodite cooed, having stayed to watch in the sidelines, a cruel smile on her face as she approached. "It's only a bit of tickling. Surely it's not so bad as all that is it? Why they haven't even started here yet..." Aphrodite smirked, running a single sharp nail over her captive's belly, circling until it reached the center, causing Psyche to spasm. "Coochie coochie coo. Look at your poor belly, it's so lonely..." She noticed the gleam in the goddess's eye; she enjoyed it.
Psyche was unable to respond, so overcome was she by laughter. She was only able to shake her head, trying desperately to be strong.
"Why if I didn't know any better, I would even say you enjoyed it…” Aphrodite taunted, poking both of Psyche's nipples which peaked. Psyche moaned, hating herself for responding, though what more should she expect from the goddess of love and lust? Just like Eros she was a master- or rather mistress- in the art. Aphrodite continued to tease her breasts, pinching and twisting the two nubs before she let finally let her hand slip further down, caressing her thighs and massing just beyond her folds. She was so slick from the oils already even the smallest touch was enough to put her on the edge of release. But Aphrodite was not so kind, stopping just shy of her release before she continued the sweet torture again. She seemed to know exactly what buttons to leave Psyche begging and cursing all in the same breath. Psyche was caught between Heaven and Hell, wanting to continue almost as much as she wanted it to end.
The only kindness it afforded was that it only slightly distracted Psyche from the torture at Worry and Sorrow's hands, though they too soon adjusted their approach, keeping Psyche at her wits end as they would go between peppering Psyche's form with gentle, sensual kisses, paying special attention to her breasts and insoles as Aphrodite brought her closer to ecstasy, before sending her into new fits of hysteria with their cruel, tickling fingers which seemed only to grow stronger and more intense with each new assault.
Just as she began to let herself enjoy the attentions the goddess stopped. "Do not forget mortal, this is not for your pleasure, it is for mine," the goddess snarled, her expression ugly as she stepped away.
Sorrow's hands replaced where the goddess had left, her nails sliding over her sides, causing Psyche new waves of torment as each of her ribs were explored expertly.
Worry changed the assault on her feet to one on knees. Psyche giggled as a child would, tears running down her eyes as she struggled.
"I am afraid I must go now, but do not worry, you will be in good company. Here, a gift to remember me by..." Aphrodite drawled, gripping the girls hips as she blew a raspberry over her stomach, the vibrations causing Psyche's sides to ache.
She did not even notice as the goddess disappeared from sight, only aware of the lonely echo of her own laughter against the stone walls of the temple. There was no point in struggling anymore. There was nothing to do but grin and bear it, just as Eros would have wanted her to. Psyche gave into the forced laughter Worry and Sorrow continued to wring from her body, crying all the while as she felt so close and still so far from the one she loved.
***
The first task Aphrodite set was for Psyche to sort a huge mass of wheat, barley, poppyseed, chickpeas, lentils, and beans by dawn. She was placed in a location from from anyone so she had no chance to ask for help. If she did not complete the task, it would count as a forfeit.
Psyche began to work on the pile, hoping against hope that she could finish, but by midday she felt no closer to when she had started. She had not even finished half. At this rate she would indeed lose.
She began to cry, cursing her troubles and her heart when she heard a small voice.
"Lady, why do you cry?" Psyche gasped at the interruption, turning around, searching for the source.
“Here I am my lady,” the voice squeaked. It was an ant, who sat upon the pile she had been working on.
Psyche sobbed. "I must organize this pile before sundown or lose the chance to win back my love... It is hopeless.”
The ant looked sadly upon the young maiden. "We- brothers and sisters- shall help you," the ant spoke. "
Psyche sniffed, looking hopeful, "You shall? Why?"
"We care not to see so fair a maiden as you in pain. We will help you complete this task."
"You are too kind… Thank you.”
The ant smiled, "Go rest my lady. We shall finish in time."
Psyche watched from the sidelines as the ants worked row by row, seeming to be of one mind as they completed the task. She counted them to pass the time, but lost count after the first hundred as they hurried in pace, eager to fulfill their task.
Psyche awoke as the chittering sound in her ear. "The task is complete my lady." It was true. The courtyard had been stacked into a near dozen piles by the ants. "Oh thank you!" Psyche smiled, the first bit of hope since Eros had gone left.
"There is one thing you can give to pay us back..."
"Anything," Psyche said eagerly.
"Laughter," the ant replied. "We ants enjoy nothing more than to hear human laughter.”
Psyche hesitated. If Aphrodite came back and saw her…
“We shall be done before dawn,” the ant assured her. “It would be only for a little while. You have the most beautiful smile we have ever seen. We would love to make you smile more."
Psyche thought for a moment before nodding. "Of course." It was the least she could do.
Psyche removed the sandals from her feet, placing them to the side and stretching her legs out onto the ground in wait. Psyche giggled as she felt the leader run up her foot, feeling as they followed one after another, trickling up and down her sole. The more adventurous of the group crawled up between her toes, eliciting higher pitches of laughter, while some others circled around her knee.
Psyche laughed heartily, urging herself to stay as still as possible for fear of harming those who had helped her, managing only just so as the ants gently trailed over her skin.
She cried happily, feeling a single tear fall, not for the laughter but the fact that the first time in so long that she was being tickled, gently, caring with no malice or spite as a motive; it was simply for the enjoyment of laughter. This brought back thoughts of Eros to her mind, and she felt another tear fall. This was soon dashed away as she gave in to the playful, happy laughter she had so long gone without.
***
The ants were gone long before Aphrodite returned. The goddess had been furious, but prepared, sending Psyche on a trip to retrieve wool of pure gold from sheep across a river. Psyche was about to when a small branch jumped in front of her as she passed, stopping her path.
She tried to go around the branch, but it seemed to anticipate this, stretching out and blocking her at every turn. "Please, I must pass."
"If you pass you shall surely die. These sheep devour the flesh of humans. They will spare you no mercy should they see you."
"I have no choice. I must, even if it means I should die."
The branch chuckled, the sound seeming so familiar it chilled her. "What's so funny?"
"Sit human, and wait. See those brier? The ones where the sheep graze? Their wool sticks to it during the day. Wait for them to pass, then you may collect the fleece you require."
Psyche waited, watching the sheep as they grazed. They seemed so ordinary and harmless, nothing like the beasts the branch had described. Had it not been for the golden glow to their wooly coats and their size, which resembled that of a horse, she would have mistaken them for any other heard. It seemed danger and beauty went hand in hand here as in so many other tales...
"How long until they turn?" She asked suddenly.
"Worry not my lady, they shall soon enough. Rest your head against this tree. I will guard you," the branch assured, it's voice so soothing, she couldn't help but obey. She rested her head against the grand trunk, removing her sandals as she did so, stretching to cradle her head between her arms. She closed her eyes, listening to the soft calming trickle of the flowing river below, so gentle. There was still plenty of time, she thought, as she allowed a moment to relax...
"My lady! My lady, wake up!" The branch's voice shouted, startling Psyche awake.
"Are they gone?" Psyche muttered, sleep lacing her voice as she stretched.
"From the clearing yes my lady, but they are headed this way! Hurry, you must climb up my roots! I can protect you but only from up here! If they see you, they will surely devour you before you have a chance to cross!"
Psyche hesitated, even as she felt the rumble of hoof beats and the sound of bleeps coming closer. Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps she could reach the river in time to grab the fleece and run... Perhaps...
"Hurry!" The branch urged, just as she heard a rustle behind the bushes, the sound of hoofbeats now almost rumbling. A flash of wool...
Psyche doubled her pace, jumping towards the tree, struggling to get her footing. She pulled herself up just in time as hoofbeats came into view. She dared not look back though as she continued to climb, going higher and higher until she was as close to the top as she dared. She anchored herself against two strong branches, hearing the sharp snap of even sharper teeth bite into something down below.
My shoes! Psyche cursed, squeaking as she watched the ram of the group tear apart at the leather as easily as parchment. Oh well, Psyche thought, at least it was not me.
The branch appeared above her, having popped from his place below to reach her. "I am sorry my lady, I should have warned you about the sheep. They do not usually come this far in."
"It's quite alright my friend. Thank you for helping me. I am just glad to be up here where it is safe... How long do they usually graze for?"
"It depends, but since they have smelled human flesh, they will stay a while. You may wait here until they are gone."
Psyche sighed, gripping the trunk tightly as she positioned herself, trying to get comfortable. "I only hope I can hold on that long."
"Oh we can help you with that, do not worry," the branch cooed. There was something about its voice that seemed almost hypnotic. It made her want to trust it completely, ignoring all other impulse to do otherwise, knowing somehow that it was safe. Her eyes began to droop. The branches seemed to move of their own accord, catching and cradling her as her muscles became slack against the wood. "Relax Psyche. Let us take care of you..." Psyche nodded, closing her eyes…
She woke slowly, hardly registering the fact that she was now tightly bound head to toe. The branches had tightened their hold, leaving her limbs taut and exposed to the air as she balanced, gently caressed by the passing breeze. She only began to become aware as she was suddenly startled when she felt a sharp poke against her sole. At first she thought it was perhaps her imagination, until she felt it again, this time more purposeful. It was the sharp touch of the branch at her feet as it stroked up and down her sole.
"Oh no, no please!" Psyche giggled, trying to evade the intruder.
"Now my lady, surely you would not deny me the chance to entertain you. You are my guest after all," the branch spoke, as he seemed to stretch, two branches growing from the space below her, digging into her sides. Psyche laughed, wondering at the feel as she felt more and more trapped by the second. Two more branches appeared, each with a leaf on their ends, digging into her underarms, making her scream with laughter as the leaves began to spin.
"No, oh no stop please!" The branch ignored her. Psyche squealed, as yet another branch dropped from above. Like an arrow to it's mark it shot straight into her belly button, causing her to buck as it began to twirl, maddeningly so.
"Why are you doing this?" Psyche laughed, as she was quickly becoming covered in a flurry of leaves and branches, determined to leave no spot untouched. Her neck, hips, knees, and feet were caressed and stroked by leaves that had Psyche giggling to no end. It was a featherlight touch that made Psyche itch and laugh all at once. The branches were the worst however, as they scratched without pause, never tiring. Every struggle seemed to encourage them only to increase their pace.
"Because you have such a lovely laugh Psyche. It would be a shame not to let it out, don't you agree?" The branch said in its sing-song voice, as it too joined the fun, drawing lazy shapes against her skin, causing new ripples of laughter in it's wake.
It seemed an eternity before the frenzied tickling began to calm. The strokes decreasing slowly but surely until the it seemed only a memory in Psyche's mind, causing a dull numb in it's absence.
Psyche continued to giggle softly as the branches carried her back down towards the ground, laying her gently on the bed of grass below before they reverted back to their natural form. One would never guess such an ordinary tree capable of such wickedness. "The sheep..." Psyche mumbled weakly.
"You need not worry for them," the branch muttered. "They are sensitive to laughter. It wards them off."
Psyche would have glared if she had the strength. "You could have told me."
"We children of the forest are not much for talking. Now go, collect the fleece. You still have a long journey ahead of you."
Psyche did as she was instructed. After picking herself up, she collected her prize, entwining the golden strands in hand. She returned the fleece to Aphrodite as agreed.
***
Her next task was her most difficult yet, as she was instructed to fill a flash with the water that flowed through the River Styx. She climbed the cliff from where Aphrodite had directed her. She sat on the edge, wondering how she would reach the water, when suddenly she felt her feet grow warm, as trickles of steams from the rocks stroked her feet. She stared down and gasped in awe and horror as what she thought to be giant lizards were in fact dragons circling the rocks.
Psyche bit her lip to keep from screaming. Man eating sheep were one thing, but dragons? She groaned, feeling hopeless once again. Suddenly an eagle appeared, stopping her just as she was about to jump. “Do not! I am Agis, sent by Zeus himself to help.”
“Zeus?” Psyche asked incredulously. “He would help me?”
“When the gods desire to intervene, you must accept it. It would bring great dishonour not to.”
Psyche nodded, dumbstruck. “Of course…” She watched in wonder as the eagle took the flash from her hand, swooping down onto the ground and returning with the filled tin. “Oh thank you you beautiful bird,” Psyche smiled, petting the eagle softly before she called to the goddess once more, praising the gods for her good fortune and praying she was not too late.
***
"My son continues to bear the scar from the injury you inflicted upon him. For your final task, you will go to the Underworld and return with a box of beauty ointment from the goddess Persephone. This will serve to heal my son. Once this is done, I will present you to my son so you may plead your case.”
Psyche didn't know whether to cry or scream. Her mother-in-law must truly despise her to want to ensure her death. Each task had been escalated in difficulty, with hopes that she would perish, and when she did not, she would be faced with the one task where death was inescapable.
***
It was this task that left Psyche looking over the mountain where she had first waited before she had been taken by Eros. She felt it only fitting that her final resting place be where her new life had started. She took a breath, summoning to courage to jump. Just as she was about to, she heard a voice in the wind, stopping her.
"Halt my lady!" The voice shouted. "Do not jump!"
Psyche sighed, "I must... I need to visit the Underworld for a box of beauty. There is no other way."
"But there is my lady. Travel to Lacedaemon. Go to Taenarus. It is by this entrance that you may find safe passage to the underworld. Take two coins and place them in your mouth for Charon the ferryman as a payment for safe passage. Do not speak to any of the souls you may see. Present yourself before Lord Hades, there you may state your case."
Psyche did so, taking great care as she traveled by boat the rocks of Taenarus, feeling chills as she gazed upon the vast wasteland wherein lied the entrance to the Underworld, home of Hades.
As instructed, she placed the heavy cold coins in her mouth, mounting the long boat manned by none other than Charon himself. She stood alongside the other souls who looked as lifeless as she felt, feeling the struggle with her very soul to escape the darkness that threatened to overtake her.
"Open your mouth," Charon's chilling drawl commanded. Psyche did so, unable to avert her eyes as the skeletal figure of the man placed his hand upon her tongue, removing the gold coins from her mouth. She struggled not to cringe at the sensation as he did so.
She held tightly to the side of the boat as she felt the pull of the waters begin to take them through the River Styx, both seeing and hearing the groans from the souls which floated there. Only the most lost of souls were trapped in the waters. She covered her ears, trying to drown out the sounds of their pleas.
She exited the boat as Charon lead them the entrance of the Fields of Asphodel. She watched as invisible servants seemed to guide the souls forward. Psyche escaped from the group, turning in search of the throne room where Hades would be.
Just then she heard a loud snarl behind her, turning as she saw Cerberus, the great three headed dog of Hades looked over her, snapping his sharp fangs. She gasped, running forward, silently calling to the gods for help, for anyone. She stumbled forward, tripping over the stony path before, falling straight onto her arms. She turned just in time to avoid the snap of Cerberus’s bared jaws. She would have cried out had it not been for the fear that kept her silent.
Psyche forced herself to stand, running past the beast in the opposite direction, hiding behind one of the walls, not daring to look back until she had done so.
She watched as the dog followed her trail, seeming to stop suddenly as he changed paths, departing. Psyche sighed in relief, leaning against the wall behind her when it suddenly disappeared behind her, causing her to fall through.
Psyche landed with a groan, raising her head as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She gasped as she saw the steps before her, unable to believe her luck. It was Hades's throne room, as immaculate and menacing as she imagined.
Her pondering was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of laughter. Psyche followed the laughter, leading her to the private gardens of Hades. Everything from the ground to the trees and fruits were covered in shadows, seeming to be a mask of death. The dark eerie look made Psyche feel even colder than before. She gazed around the garden, her gaze resting as she found the source of the laughter.
There stood Persephone, queen of the Underworld. She was secured by dark tendrils against the stone wall. The tendrils appeared as living shadows, wrapped around her ankles, wrists, with a lone one covering her eyes while others stroked over her belly, thighs, and underarms. "Hades please," Persephone moaned, squirming in her her bonds as she struggle to evade the invading tickling touch as more joined in.
"This shall teach you to mock your king," Hades's dark chuckle echoed through the hall, the sound causing chills through Psyche's spine. He had sadistic look in his eye that would have made even the strongest of warriors quake in fear as he scratched Persephone's soles with his long dark nails, causing the queen of darkness to squeal.
"Oh please my king, forgive me... " Persephone begged between shallow breaths, her long golden hair whipping from side to side as he increased the pace in his strokes, while he command the tendrils around her to do the same, paying particular attention to her navel where three tendrils currently wiggled in and out like worms through a hole, causing loud spasms of laughter.
"Ah, ah, my love, you know I cannot let such things go unpunished. What would my subjects think?" Hades teased, placing a gentle kiss upon her feet before his long serpent like tongue darted out, twirling between her toes, causing new waves of laughter from the goddess.
Psyche could not help her curiosity as she spied on the pair. It was odd such an odd sight, to see the God of Death be so... Playful. To anyone else his words would have sounded like those to a disloyal subject, yet for the chilly demeanour and tone, he managed to convey affection in his actions.
Psyche felt a flash of jealousy, unable to help but imagine herself up there, wishing it could be Eros who was with her, playing as he had so often in the past. Psyche sighed, knowing she could not interrupt. She would wait for Hades in the throne room. As she turned to escape however, she found herself suddenly trapped, the ground beneath her feet seeming to melt, preventing her escape as tendrils similar to those holding Persephone captive soon bound her as well, pulling her towards the wall. Oh no!
As she was bound, Psyche felt the tendrils stroke against her sides, feeling like the slither a snake, claiming its prey. Psyche bit her lip, willing herself not to laugh as the tendrils continued to slither. She knew the moment she did so she would notify the god of her presence. It would not do to upset the lord of death when she still needed his help.
She struggled, trying to escape but finding it hopeless as her legs and knees were likewise bound, the tendrils tight against her skin. Psyche's stomach shook from the strain at their touch glided against her skin, stroking her as gently as a feather. She let it out a giggle.
The more Psyche struggled, the more they teased. Finally Psyche could hold it no longer as laughter burst forth, the sound echoing the garden where cold silence followed. Psyche gasped as the tendrils suddenly stopped their movements, tightening so that she she lost her breath for a moment. There stood Hades, giving her a murderous glare. He moved his hands, commanding the tendrils as they lifted her until she was staring straight into the face of the Dark Lord.
He looked every bit as dark and menacing as the stories foretold, appearing as death incarnated, gruesome with a sort of dangerous beauty around him she would have appreciated under other circumstances. "What is this? Who dares enter the kingdom of Hades unannounced?!" Psyche jumped, feeling her heart race at his dark tone, all hints of the playfulness from before gone. "Speak mortal!"
Psyche forced herself to speak. "I am Psyche, my lord. I apologize. I did not mean to disturb you… I was awaiting an audience in the Throne Room and I heard the commotion…” Psyche squeaked as he seemed only more annoyed by this.
"Why have you come?" Hades drawled.
"I am sent here by Aphrodite. I come to ask your wife Persephone for a box of beauty."
"Indeed, and what, mortal, gives you a right to that which only the gods may touch?"
"I have injured Aphrodite's son, Eros. The box of beauty is to heal him."
"And why should you concern yourself with such matters, mortal?"
"He is my husband," Psyche whispered softly, feeling an ache at the admission.
His boney stare was penetrating as he nodded. "I believe you mortal. You shall have your box and be on your way. The living cannot dwell in the land of the dead for long. Persephone my love, we have a visitor," Hades called. Psyche felt the tendrils release her, letting her fall back gracefully upon the ground which had solidified once more.
There appeared the queen of the dead, Persephone herself. She was a vision, seeming to shine as she strolled towards them. She showed no signs of her earlier activities, save the soft wrinkles in her gown from where she'd been bound. Her presence was welcoming and commanded attention all at once. She silently lead Psyche to her private chambers, from where she took an ornate silver box, which she then handed to her.
"This box is for the gods alone. You must not open it for any reason. Do you understand?"
Psyche nodded. "Of course my Queen, thank you. Your kindness shall not be forgotten." Persephone smiled gently at the girl, squeezing her hand in a way that meant to comfort her.
"I know first hand the trials love makes us face... Do not lose hope sweet Psyche. Love will prevail all."
Psyche smiled her appreciation, following the goddess as she lead her back out of of the labyrinth of the Underworld, exiting the throne room to return to the ferry, where Charon awaited, taking her back through the dark tunnel of Tartarus, into the comforting sunlight beyond.
***
Psyche gazed at the box of beauty in her hand. After leaving the underworld she had wandered back through the desolate land until she reached a meadow, fatigued from her travel and needing a break before she could continue. In the silence, her thoughts turned to Eros. What if once he was healed he still wished nothing to do with her? What if he didn't love her anymore? What if he no longer thought she was good enough him, not beautiful enough... Perhaps just a bit of beauty, just a bit would be enough to make him love her once more. Just a little couldn't hurt...
She opened the box, inhaling deeply as the mist fell from the box, striking her squarely in the eyes. She swooned and proceeded to fall into the welcoming darkness.
***
Psyche awoke, surrounded by darkness. Her eyes adjusted slowly. She felt the familiar tug around her wrists tied together with coarse ropes that held her tight. She looked around, failing to recognize her surroundings in the dimly light the room. Where was she? How had she gotten here?
Psyche jumped as she felt a cold hand touch her shoulder, turning to the sight of none other than Eros. Even in the dark she recognized him. He looked beautiful, large and majestic as she had remembered, yet something was off. His white wings appeared black as night, and he wore robes to match, looking like a fallen angel. She noticed the hot white scar the oil had left was gone. Her heart elated for a moment. Had he healed? His look was deciphering and cold as he gazed at Psyche. However not even this could damper Psyche's mood. She was too happy to see him.
"Eros? Eros is that you? Where have you been? I've missed you so. Eros, please, release me. I want to apologize..." She frowned as he continued to stare, unused to such emptiness in his gaze. Suddenly he moved, seeming to ignore her completely as he strolled around the room. Psyche heard clatter and jingles echoing off the wall. It sounded like he was putting something together, or taking it apart...
"Eros, why won't you speak to me? Please tell me where we are. You're scaring me... I know you're angry but please, we need to talk."
"Eros!" Psyche cried, silenced a moment later as the room suddenly lit up. Candles surrounded the room, from the highest walls to the bedside table. She shuddered at the sight of dark bed chamber where she lay. Though it was not the chambers that startled her, but the spread before her. Eros stood at the foot of the bed, an array at tools at his side. She was just barely able to make out the tops of the items, but the way she had been tied made it hurt her neck to try and get a closer look.
"Eros, what is this?" Psyche gulped, trying to reason this in her mind. "Please, say something..." She strained her neck, trying to meet his eyes.
Suddenly, without warning he pulled a long black feather from his back. It was as thick as his arm, the length surpassing it only just so, seeming more like a blade than a feather in his hands. He looked every bit Ares's son in that instance. A warrior with his prey, with no hint of mercy in his eyes as he approached. Still he refused to meet her gaze.
He looked cruel, giving her a fiendish grin, one rivaling even his mother's. It frightened her. "Eros.... Eros please stop!" Psyche thrashed, sucking in her gut in an effort to avoid the feather slowly descending towards her stomach. She wished she could close her eyes, wanting to allow herself some form of escape, but fear held her still. She squirmed at the first touch, the tingling sensation causing her hair to rise and immediate giggles to escape. Try as she might, escape was impossible as he dragged the feather painstakingly slowly over her stomach, running from her underarm, down to her breasts, over her belly, and swirling ever so teasingly over her sensitive navel.
Psyche jumped, trying not to laugh but finding it harder by the second. It might as well have been a hundred feathers instead of the one that touched her skin. The sensations seemed to double the more he pressed. Just when she thought she could remain comfortable with the motions, even enjoying the gentle touch, he upped the ante, turning the feather so he held the tip in his hand, like a quill, writing along her belly and scratching at the inside her navel.
Psyche squeaked, unable to hold her breath any longer as she opened her mouth, laughter springing forth as she did so.
Eros's grin intensified, obviously pleased as he continued to scribble away, the scritchy-scratchy motion causing Psyche's heart to leap. The worst was when he teased just around the sides of the sensitive bud. The laughter made her sides ache.
He twirled the makeshift quill away, seeming to write across each of her ribs, her sides, her stomach, and even the inside of her thighs. She never thought she could feel so ticklish as she did then, so exposed.
The worst however was the silence. He ignored her every attempt to talk with him, to reason. He actually seemed annoyed when she would get a word through. He then doubled his efforts to silence her as he suddenly straddled her waist, making her double over in laughter by digging his fingers into her underarms, causing her to literally shake in laughter. His nails were sharper and longer than she remembered, feeling like cold, sharp needles against her skin as they poked away cruelly and without rest. He scratched slowly at first, running the fingernails one by one over her sensitive underarms. She was so sensitive from the laughter a single nail was enough to make her jump. Soon another joined in, then another, another and so on until each arm had 5 fingers digging away, scratching in sudden frenzy. Each time she bounced against him, the feathers of his wings would drag unwittingly against the exposed flesh of her sides, causing added giggles to erupt.
"Eros please..." Psyche begged. Just when she thought she'd pass out, he stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief as he backed away from the top of the bed, allowing the sweat on her brow to fall. This respite however was short lived. A moment later she squealed as she felt a distinct scratch against her soles. Eros had selected the first of his tools, a stiff, hard scrubbing brush which he ran across her sole.
"No, ha, ha!" Psyche cried. The brush had been slicked in oil, making it slippery and easy to glide to and fro over her sensitive feet. Psyche laughed heartily at the sensations, jumping in her binds, the rope digging in cruelly as she felt the touch intensify. "Please, no." Psyche giggled, when Eros's used his smallest of his very large nails to scratch right between the skin of her toes.
Eros then spoke the first words since she had arrived, "Fteró!"
Psyche watched in horror as the long black feather lifted from where he'd left it, right next to her on the table. It shot right at her, stabbing straight for her skin, the plume tracing the lines Eros had drawn earlier with the tip, like a magnet to metal. It stroked against her skin, running across her underarms, tracing the outline of her breasts, and stroking teasingly against the skin of her abdomen where it would circle around her belly before being sucked into her belly button where it twirled like a dancer. It seemed an eternity it would stay there, teasing away at the milky skin before it started the process all over again, following the same path upwards and then down again. Every now again it would flicker as if of it's own accord, once, twice against her inner thighs, drawing the smallest of moans before it would return to the torment it was meant to bring.
It was no where near as hard or fast as the touch at her feet, but it was enough to intensify the sweet and painful torture, making her laughter double in size. She was finding it hard to breathe.
This wasn’t meant to be teasing, it was torturous, plain and simple. Psyche felt so betrayed, and alone. She had longed so much for Eros, longed for the days he had pushed her limits, driving her nearly insane with his passions, but she felt none of those passions then. She felt the same cold emptiness as the day he'd left her, and he enjoyed it. Why couldn’t he just talk to her? Psyche felt tears spring from her eyes. Her head started to feel fuzzy.
"Enough!" Psyche heard a scream, a scream so loud it nearly deafened her as it echoed against the chamber walls. It sounded so familiar... Psyche closed her eyes just as the ropes disappeared from around her wrists, dropping her from their embrace. She swooned, collapsing against the bed. She would have rolled off had strong, large arms not caught her, gripping her tightly against a warm chest.
"Psyche?" The voice whispered softly against her ear, urging her eyes open.
"Eros?" Psyche blinked, confused as she gazed into the clear, deep blue eyes of her husband. He no longer wore the pitch black robes she had seen him in, but instead the clear white robes she recalled. His wings had likewise returned to their snow white colour, and she noticed the scar on his shoulder returned, no longer healed. How could this be?
"Psyche, are you alright?" He looked concerned.
She was shocked, unable to comprehend what her mind was showing her. What had happened? How had he changed so quickly? Had she gone mad? Was this a dream? A wonderful dream... Or was he simply playing with her, and sure to attack her again at any second. Her heart ached at the thought.
"Psyche, Psyche answer me!" Eros growled, regretting his tone as he watched his wife flinch. "Psyche... Please talk to me."
"You didn't seem very interested in talking just now," Psyche managed, her tone shaky.
"Psyche that... That wasn't me... I wasn't..."
"It certainly looked like you. He certainly sounded like you. However dark and twisted it may have been..."
"Psyche I... This... That wasn't..."
"Don't tell me it wasn't real, I know what I felt."
Eros sighed. "Psyche it was... It was me, but at the same, it wasn't."
Psyche glared. "Explain."
"Psyche, you're in my dream."
"Your dream?" Psyche asked woodenly, a part of her straining to understand him, still apprehensive. "You mean... I'm asleep? But how?"
"The box of beauty. It was not beauty but sleep within."
"Then shouldn't this be my dream instead? My mind I’m trapped in?"
Eros seemed distraught at that. "It seems my mother is crueler than I thought."
"You’re one to talk, seeing what you’re ‘dream self’ just put me through.”
Eros frowned, angered and hurt by the comment. "That was my dark side Psyche. The side each of us, human and god alike, has deep down. It is cruel, ruthless, and desires nothing more than to punish... It's the part of my mind I hoped you'd never see. The same part I tried to leave behind that night... The part that still haunts me since you betrayed me.”
Psyche scoffed. "Well that is just perfect. I can carry out eternity here being tormented by the man I love. Your mother's revenge is complete... As is yours."
Eros seemed to anger at this, letting her go. "You think so poorly of me that I would wish to see you suffer? After all I’ve done!"
"What are you talking about?"
"The ants, the branch, the wind, Psyche! It was all me! Even the eagle! I asked Zeus to intervene on my behalf… Everything I did, I did so you could be safe...” He scoffed. “But it's not enough is it? How can you claim to love me when you cannot even recognize my love for you?"
Psyche gazed at him then, the hurt in her eyes shining. "Eros... I miss you more than words can say. I ache for you, for your touch, your love, but how can I love you when you cannot even forgive me? When you fail to see that I would rather spend eternity in torment at your side, than eternity without it... Your mother thinks it a punishment to send me to live and die alone should I fail her tasks. What she does not understand is, without you, I am already alone," Psyche hiccupped, feeling hot tears run down her cheeks.
Eros stared a moment, his silence biting as he watched his love cry. He could not bear to see her suffer so, not like this.
A moment later Psyche felt herself with her back pressed down against the bed, laughter interrupting her tears as Eros's hands dug into her ribs. Surprised, pearly laughter sprung out, laughter Eros had gone too long without.
Psyche giggled as he lightened his touch, dragging his fingers up and down across her sides. Moans filled the laughter as Eros grasped her firmly against him, dragging her by her hips, kissing her deeply like a man starved. Psyche felt her knees weaken, grateful for his tender touch to keep her steady.
As he broke the kiss, the look in his eye said more than words ever could. The moment she caught the boyish smile on his face, she knew all was forgiven, as did he. Psyche returned his grin, eager to kiss him again but finding herself unable to as she was tied once more, by the silk strands she had missed so dearly. She squirmed, trying desperately to escape, the familiar tightening around her wrists letting her know it was impossible.
“Now, now sweet Psyche, this is still my dream if you’ll recall… And I intend to do as I please.”
Eros grinned then, the sadistic look in his eye rivaled even Hades, causing a pleasant shudder to run through Psyche's spine. Eros winked, before he dropped his head, wiggling his slippery tongue across and within Psyche's navel, causing giggles to spring forth while his hands found the sweet spot at her sides, scratching at the reddened skin. Psyche laughed, squirming under the sweet torment.
Eros began to tease and torment her knees, causing gales of laughter to be occasionally his hand would slip down lower, tormenting her flawless soles with his hands, which only renewed his vigor and her laughter. Psyche felt helpless once again to do anything, though she did not mind this time. This is what she had longed for, what she’d dreamed of since the day he’d left.
After a while, Eros's left hand slipped up to her her thighs, teasing her lightly at her delicate folds, his thumb tracing firmly the inside of her thighs while he slipped his free fingers and out of her, hitting her sensitive nub expertly, causing pleasure to course through Psyche's form. He was a master when it came to her body, always knowing with a single touch how to put her on edge. Psyche found herself quickly begging for release. “Please Eros…” She rasped.
Eros relented, knowing it had been too long for them both. He gripped her firmly, dragging himself on top as they began to make love, enjoying her cries of pleasure and laughter they did so.
***
During their lovemaking, Psyche lost count of the time. Only aware as she awoke once more, in the exact meadow where she had fallen asleep. Eros was there, waiting for her. He had awoken from her cursed sleep the way she knew he loved to best, with laughter, having scratched up and down her underarms in quick succession. He allowed Psyche her own revenge as she tackled him onto the grass, straddling him from behind as he had done so often to her, dragging her nails up and down his sides, enjoying the feel as he writhed in torment beneath her. “Surely the mighty God of Love is cannot be so easily brought down by a little tickling…” She cooed into his ear, blowing a raspberry against his ribs, causing his laughter to double as she continued…
“Oh my, such lovely laughter. It’s a shame to have kept it locked away for so long. Such a gift from the gods should be treasured. Perhaps you just need someone to worship you properly for the god you are…” Psyche grinned, moving her position from his waist to his knees, bending them so his feet were exposed to her eager hands. "Why just look at these feet. So perfect, so smooth..." She blew over them softly, watching as Eros's toes curled. Excitement coursed through Psyche at the sight. "So eager for my attention..." She placed a gentle kiss upon his soles, right before she let her nail scratch lightly over the surface, before digging in firmly.
"No," Eros begged, overcome by laughter as Psyche exposed his weak spot. He twisted beneath her touch, jumping at the sensations as her sharp nails spidered over his soles, teasing around the arches, heels, and scratching maddeningly between his toes.
Psyche enjoyed feeling him squirm, making him beg for mercy beneath her hands. She adored knowing she was the only one who saw him like this, who would ever have him like this, at her complete and utter mercy; her a mortal bringing down the God of Love with the mere touch of her hands. She had never felt more powerful.
She was so caught up in the moment she never noticed as Eros twitched his wings, the long, white feathers finding her soles, making her laugh in surprise. It was quick but enough to allow Eros to free himself from her grasp, his hands expertly finding her underarms as their struggle for dominance began, each delighting in making the other laugh, squirm, and beg beneath the other's hands.
The remained breathless afterwards, Psyche resting her back against Eros’s, both spooned together as they gazed at the setting sun. Psyche wished the day would never end. She hated to break the moment, wishing they could stay like this forever.
"We must go back," Psyche said softly. "Your mother is waiting."
Eros smiled then, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. The gentle touch of his lips brought courage to her heart. He hugged her firmly in his arms before they flew off towards Aphrodite’s temple.
Zeus was there, waiting alongside Eros's mother. He was to bear witness. Aphrodite looked scornful, gazing at Psyche with nothing less than disgust as she stood against Eros, praying to all the gods for strength as she faced the Great Goddess.
"I do not accept," was the first thing she said as Psyche presented the box.
"Psyche completed the tasks. You must honour that."
"No. She may have fooled you into forgiving her Eros but I shall not be swayed so easily. She opened the box and therefore has failed. She will give you up and live a life of celibacy, just as was agreed."
Eros growled in frustration, turning then to Zeus. "Then I asked to become mortal, so that I may live and grow old along side my wife Psyche. So I may share the rest of my life with her... And our child."
"Child?" Psyche gasped, the surprise on her face matching that of Aphrodite.
Eros smiled at her, his eyes tender. "Yes, my love. I am the God of Love. I know of these things all too well." He kissed her tenderly on the brow, placing a gentle hand upon her stomach. Psyche was touched by the adoration in his eyes. "If I had not been so blinded by my rage, I would have seen it before..."
Aphrodite was in shock, approaching Psyche with a sort of dazed look. Eros removed his hands from her stomach, placing them upon Psyche's shoulders instead to allow her room, but his stance was no less protective, his eyes warning. Aphrodite was surprisingly tender as she placed a hand upon the mortal's stomach, where Eros's had been moments before. For the first time since she'd known her, Psyche could have sworn she saw a smile, a genuine smile, on the goddess's lips.
Zeus interrupted then, "If that is your wish..."
"Wait!" Aphrodite cried. "I... I cannot allow this. My son... My son has found his true love. The one who makes him truly happy... He deserves to spend all of eternity with her... And she with him. Mighty Zeus, I ask you to make Psyche immortal, so she may live long and merrily with my son, as will their many, many children to come."
"So shall it be," Zeus intoned. His tone would have sounded grave to anyone who heard, though Psyche still managed to catch the lightness in his tone, indicating his pleasure at the news.
Psyche smiled then, placing a gentle hand into the goddess's. "Thank you," she whispered. Her heart sung as she felt Eros drag her into his arms, spinning her around and around in his arms.
Psyche was taken to Olympus, where she drank the nectar of the gods, allowing her to become immortal. There she was wed anew, witnessed by all the gods of Olympus as she pledged her undying love Eros and he to her, they way it had always meant to be.
They returned to their hidden kingdom once, where they later had a daughter named Voluptus, meaning pleasure. There they proceeded to rule for all eternity in laughter, song, and love.
The End
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This is my first TK story. I hope you enjoy it.
Any and all feedback is welcome. Thank you so much for reading. It may also be found on my TT page. Note: Fteró - Means Feather in Greek
