*****
“It is done,” whispered Pelopia as she allowed the blood to course from the corpse of the king over her breasts. They do not understand that it is not the cooling breeze between a woman’s legs, not spring’s caress of Hera nor the touch of the pollen of spring. xxvideo He did not speak, for the thought of that endless silence being broken by a voice was too much to bear. It trickled, black in the dark shadow, until it paused for moments before dripping from her standing nipples. The fifty five steps that led from the depths of the sanctuary to the inner court of the temple were worn with the tread of priestesses, victims, supplicants and martyrs that had trodden their ledges. He reached out into the dark but found
