The Flayed One

After my recent dream as some participant in an orgy it occurred to me to do some research on Marsyas. I came across the myth of his confrontation with Apollo, explaining his flayed appearance. To humour myself I did a search with his and my name together and was surprised by the results. It revealed the scandal of an emperor of Rome's relation, seeking to undermine him via perverse rites. Whilst I have read a lot of history books, this was the first time I encountered this. The scandal was mentioned briefly in many texts but rarely in much detail. Now I know why.

His presence was strong and constant now. Often I would make out his shadowy figure in the corner of my eye. Yes, the time was close. Soon he would manifest and take me to his realm, where he would do all manner of horrid things to me. I could hardly wait.

To the sound of yet more entertained customers, I returned backstage and froze when I saw Kilili there. I could not help but smile to see the beauty, clothed in a minidress that was nigh transparent. The bouncer I now knew as Reggie accompanied her, but he seemed in a stupor, as if enthralled by witch. "Hello Kilili. What brings you here?"

Her smile made my heart beat faster, "A certain skinless satyr tells me he will be soon wearing you as his cocksleeve for the next eternity or so. I thought I'd give my congrats, you lucky whore."

I blushed at the compliment. Some part of me knew I should be terrified at what was happening, but it was far outweighed by the excitement the prospect of it gave me. " Yes, I can't wait."

"A favour if I may?" she asked, "When he does finally skewer you, write about your journey to him before you go? I have a... secret library if you will. It's where I keep works detailing the stories of people like you and me. Would you do that?"

I thought about it, "I'll try. I am not sure if I will be able focus once he's in me. But I will try."

"That's all I ask." She turned, "Come Reggie, I think you need to finish early. I am thirsty."

"Yes mam." He said uncertainly, stumbling drunkenly after her.

The Lovers:

I wander the island Tremirus, my body an agony for me. Always under guard, I did my best to seduce them but the emperor had chosen his most loyal men. I spent my days and nights calling and seeking for any sign of Marsyas, but I sense nothing. Still my loins do not react to my fingers, and I am deprived of men now, even if my mind flits with images of their phalluses. I beg them to send requests for my release, when these are rejected I beg for at least a figure depicting Marsyas. This too falls on deaf ears.

One day I come across a hunk of onyx. Carefully I tuck it away and secret it to my bedroom. There at night, by the light of a candle and with dull eating implements I chisel away at it. I am no expert sculptor but thoughts of Marsyas fill my skull, depriving me of no detail of him. Rather than skinless I carve him as he was before Apollo punished him so cruelly. Handsome, strong and with a thick shaft that was meant to tear its way through me. It takes months and many ruined cutlery pieces but eventually I am happy with it.

There I hide it and call for him through it deep into the night, done futilely for he never answers. For years every night I try and receive nothing.

Eventually, seeing how aged I am I give in and bury the figure. Despairing and downtrodden, I lie in my bed and flee this mortal realm.

******

I wake in my bed, feeling that same despair I had felt in the dream. But with it is hope. For a moment I saw a dark figure looming over me. I smiled, I had been given another chance, and tonight I would succeed where I had failed all those centuries ago.

I rise and bathe myself, before applying my best make up. I want to look my best when he comes to wreck me. I switch off the fire alarm and light a dangerous amount of incense and candles. I place the statue of Marsyas upon an expensive altar I had custom built, depicting satyrs doing perverse things to women. I shiver with trepidation and excitement for what is to come.

I hear the panpipes playing even as I call for him loudly. Over and over I recite the devotion, begging him to come and claim me at last. Over and over I say it, like a mantra. The music fills me with perverse joy and I feel my loins burn in readiness. I begin to see shapes in the smoke, cavorting figures locked together in obscene positions. I start to hear the ecstatic screams along with the music. Yes, the veil between his world and mine is weakened.

I feel a large presence looming behind me and I know it is him. I look up and there he is, leering down at me with his skinless face oozing. I feel his phallus smearing my back and I smile, finally ready to be his whore.

With a strong but clammy grip he lifts me by my thighs, making me whoop in delight. I then moan with need as I feel the tip of him brush and press against my sex. Yes, oh yes! Please, do it this time. Skewer me and make me yours.

He rams into me.

I gasp as he bursts through my womb and into my insides, the head stopping next to my beating heart. I orgasm violently, unceasingly, I am lost to the agony and ecstasy of it. I want it to never end. Yes, this is where I belong, this is what I am. Through me he thrusts and I, my body having changed to accept him, survive and revel in the sensation. The feeling of orgasm never ends, even as he fills my ruptured body with his seed. I sense the veil between our worlds thickening again, this time I would remain with my love Marsyas. But I reach up with a shaking hand to touch his open cheek, bidding him to wait.

I promised Kilili afterall.

******

Are you reading this Kilili? Are you satisfied?

It takes a monumental effort to write this I assure you, to type away, recalling the events that led to my delicious downward spiral even as my beloved Marsyas thrusts through me. I trust it is you who will find this, you seem the resourceful kind.

It is the least I can do to thank you. How many times have I come back over the centuries I wonder? A deep part of me calling for my love Marsyas to come claim me. I suppose it no longer matters, you brought us together Kilili, and my twitching, ruined loins thank you for it.

The veil thickens. And now I go, to dwell in the twisted realms where the darkest of imaginations linger...

Editor's Note:

Reading this I am sweet Julia, and with envious loins I do retype this into more coherent form. Naturally you are forgiven for the frantic way you have written, filled with grammatical errors and nonsensical lines. It is to be expected when you have a demigod fucking you.

I saw you, you know. With my lilitu eyes I can see both realms. As I was satiating my thirst with my latest client I saw you, impaled and pointing at your pink thong, laughing. I knew then you were his at long last and could barely contain my joy, let alone my excitement. For I knew you would not have come had you not seen to my request. I quickly finished with my devotee and made for your apartment.

I know where you dwelled of course, I watched you at your adorations with much admiration. With anxiety too, for whilst you could not, I could see Marsyas' form hungrily pacing around you, trying hard to reach you through the obscuring cloak that keeps us separated. I feared many a time that you would not manage it.

I enter your apartment naked, it is a holy place now and I dare not sully it with shame. The incense and candles have since died. I smell blood and sweat and semen and it flares my thirst anew. I would have to seek several men once done tonight. I see the dull glow of the computer monitor to one side and smile when I read your work. I hit the print that I may take it home and rework it before posting it online. Of course I shall add a hard copy to my collection also. Many people do not see it but sooner or later that data flying through cables and air and light will cease and much that had been taken for granted will be lost. Hence the need for keepers like me, hence the importance of struggling bookstores.

As I rise to leave, hungering for a man, I see the magnificent altar you had made and the warped statue of Marsyas. I say warped for it is much changed now. No longer the smiling, hairy satyr, he is a grimacing, skinless creature playing the pipes whilst having a woman impaled upon him. The woman has a curious expression for her fate, a mixture of both agony and joy. I find the change pleasing to my lilitu tastes. What a lucky slut you are Julia!

Carefully I pick up the statue and bring it with me, to be kept safe with other such relics I have acquired over the centuries.

Once done, I shall go see how your friend Michelle is progressing...