The Mistress of The Depths

This is a story/series that's in a poetic/freestyle prose format.

It's set in the Red Room universe. In a way it's a sequel to The Red Room Chronicles. If you haven't checked it out you might want to, so you get a better idea of what's going on.

The story takes place a year after Lilith and her step son make love. They eventually started a relationship. After they made love the mysterious Red Room never came back... until now...

And it brought a friend...

The Mistress of the Depths.

Dear Mistress,

I remembered hearing it first--

the crackling of electricity in the air,

that's when I knew.

I had returned to the Red Room.

A year had passed since

I drifted into this

mysterious labyrinth of shadow

and red silk,

where dreams

carry the weight of prophecies.

Upon your scarlet throne, you waited--

an alabaster specter sipping black coffee

from a cup darker than the infinite void itself.

White silk covered your shoulders,

red high heels striking the floor-

the aura of a queen of her domain.

"The power of the taboo act you

and Adam performed in twilight,

split the veils between dream

and waking realities.

Now, Lilith you stand at the crossroads."

You rose, slow and gently

with your shifting form,

neither woman nor man

but the fluid equilibrium of both.

Between your thighs

your duality teased me;

your cock thrummed in the air

closing up the space in between us.

I opened my lips-

every instinct and every fiber of my being

told me to taste your swollen shaft

and worship it.

but I knew I'd have to wait.

You gestured to the offering

laid before me:

black leather attire,

supple as the dark between stars.

Without hesitation I obeyed.

Each strap,

and each buckle,

tightened around my skin,

like the rings of Saturn.

I look into the mirror,

your eyes intertwined with mine

and within the depths of your eyes

I am devoured.

My skin cried out

under the leather's embrace

consecrated and marked.

I was yours.

This lust and thirst

that possessed me

in this moment,

is not the same as with Adam.

You sensed it, Mistress.

You knew.

Slender roots burst

from the Red Room's floor,

tender as fingers,

cunning as old gods.

They ascended and climbed up

my legs, up my spine,

bending through the dark folds of leather,

squeezing my erected nipples--

stroking, and testing the boundaries

of my will.

Your voice, only a whisper,

slithered into my ear

like a forbidden name:

"With this Desire

I touch the Infinite."

Mistress, as you commanded.

I write this in my magical diary.

And a new chapter begins.

<<------------------------------------------>>

Dear Mistress,

I remember this familiar feeling immediately-

the corridors of the Red Room.

I stepped through a violet-colored door,

my feet sinking into a body of water.

The air was swollen with heat and moonlight,

thick and shaking with something mute.

At the edge of the shifting lake,

I kneeled.

I knew I was dreaming

when I saw you, Mistress-

bare, your breasts, bouncing,

rising and falling,

your hips rolling

in deliberate and slow thrusts.

Riding you,

her golden hair damp with sweat,

was a woman with wide hips,

glistening skin--

Marilyn Monroe,

or a phantom mirrored-image.

Her body arched beneath your firm hands,

her moans soft, rippling across the water.

With each thrust, she gasped--

not in pain,

not in pleasure,

but in revelation.

Her half-closed eyes found mine,

and she spoke, dreamlike, a language

I knew though I had never heard

in the waking world.

"Taboo is the key to the door of magic."

"Magic is buried beneath the law,

beneath the shame."

I shuddered at her words.

She continued, voice fevered.

"There is no law in love.

Love is the law."

"Here in the dream,

you are free."

Her thighs tightened

around your cock Mistress,

her nails dragging across your back,

your grip bruising her hips.

The only sound you made

was the wet slap of flesh

meeting flesh.

"What they call taboo,

we name power."

Her voice was a prophecy;

a divine breath inhaled.

My pulse pounded in my throat.

Her words coiled around my ribs,

sliding into the bones and marrow

of my being.

"Let it burn through you.

Let it undo you."

The waves vibrated in rhythm with you,

Marilyn moved against you

in perfect time.

Silver mist spiraled through the air,

thick and charged with electricity.

Her spine arched

as your thrusts deepened.

Her moans murmured into prayer.

"This taboo is power they haven't named."

"Oh fuck--"

"We name it now, don't we, Mistress?"

You didn't answer, Mistress.

Only pushed and penetrated

deeper inside her writhing womb.

Her form flickered in the moonlight,

a ethereal mirage of shadows.

"Do you feel it, Lilith?"

"How the body remembers it's reckoning?"

Her movements sped up,

hips meeting yours in a rolling frenzy.

"Own it!"

"Claim what's forbidden!"

"Once you do, you become a goddess!"

Her voice blurred and slurred into moans,

her eyes glazed,

lips trembling.

"Let the power of the taboo fill you."

"Let it rise from the depths where it sleeps inside you."

"The Mistress is inside me, expanding!

"With this desire,

I touch the infinite."

Her body gleamed, dissolving in moonlight.

Only her voice remained,

an echo undulating across the water.

I understand-

the taboo is not just rebellion,

but the creation of new worlds.

<<--------------------------------------->>

Dear Mistress,

I remember the sunlight

filtering through

the heavy, red curtains,

casting a warm gold across

the red wooden floors

as I walked inside.

There you were

sitting with your long pale legs folded,

and a golden chalice in hand.

Your tempestuous eyes pierced through

my yellow silk dress.

I sat on a red velvety couch

surrounded by stacks of old books.

The faint scent of myrrh and sandalwood hung in the ambience of this space.

"Is this real," I asked you.

You smiled over the rim of your chalice,

the golden liquid within caught the light

like the changing hues of a sunset.

"What's real?" you asked,

tilting your head slightly,

eyes gleaming with mischief

and wisdom alike.

"Reality," you continued,

setting the chalice down beside you,

"is a trick of the senses,

a mirage in the desert."

You stood, the white drape of your robe parting slightly as you moved toward me,

your bare feet silent

against the wooden floor.

And I sensed the phallus allure

in between your thighs.

"The waking world

and the dream world

are not opposites,"

you murmured to me.

Your slender finger trailed along

the spines of ancient texts

stacked beside us.

Your eyes were luminous

matching the glow of the sunshine.

"Taboo magic,"

you whispered to me,

"Is not about breaking the rules of the world.

It is breaking the illusion of the world."

"To cross the threshold of the forbidden

is to melt the veil of falsehood,

to step beyond morality

and into the raw, and undivided

essence of power itself."

Your words curled around me

like a serpent surrounding my body

and mind.

I felt bound to your words like a spell.

"Tell me, when my voice beckons you

and slivers through your thoughts,

when my touch lingers on your skin

long after I've disappeared-

am I not real?"

You moved behind me,

slow and intentional

and I felt your fingers graze my shoulder

sliding down the silk of my yellow dress.

"You think reality is only solid and fixed;

something to press your hands against."

"The gods do not care for the lines

mortals draw between real and unreal.

Let me show you what they desire."

With reverence of a god

you stood before me,

your hands moved down from my shoulders, to peel the dress from my body,

letting it slip to the floor.

I was vulnerable and naked in your control.

With a snap of your fingers,

your white robe was on the floor

on top of my dress.

Your cock was stiff upon my belly.

It was glorious and pulsing,

a quiet invitation to all my openings.

But you did not take me, not yet.

Instead, you traced me with it,

running the smooth length

over my breasts,

down the soft roll of my stomach.

"With desire, I touch the infinite,"

I whispered.

You smiled like drunken hyena

that's about to devour it's prey.

"Then take it in into you Lilith."

I knelt in devotion to your words.

My lips parted, tasting the tip,

then the salt of your full arousal.

Your thick cock throbbed

in my small mouth

as I took you deeper,

inch by inch;

my tongue swirled your robustness.

The taste of you was so primal.

I could feel your swelling power

flooding inside me.

It was everything I dreamed of.

You touched your own voluptuousness,

a languid stroke of your fingers

over your hard nipples

as I tasted you;

your body and hips bucked and trembled

with each flick of my tongue.

My eyes were closed

to memorize this moment

of drinking and swallowing you.

Your hot seed spilled into my mouth;

flowed down my throat

coating my tongue.

Until you pulled away,

spilling your nectar onto my face,

anointing my lips,

and splashing your creamy juices

across my tits.

I dared not wipe my mouth clean.

I let it remain.

I let it name me.

<<--------------------------------------->>

Dear Mistress,

I remember the scent

of the damp musk

of an abandoned house.

I was in a ruinous room

where twisted ivy covered

the tattered stone walls.

The roof caved in as if the heavens

had clawed it open.

I was bound in silver chains

and wrapped in a green cloth,

a symbol of restriction;

limitations of the waking world.

Then I heard the slow,

creak of the green door.

You entered and the moonlight sculpted

your naked, radiant and merciless erection.

With each step you penetrated the air itself and made it surrender to your force.

"To master desire and passion,"

you said with an insatiable grin,

"you must first be devoured by it."

Your devious eyes flickered,

examining each fold of flesh,

underneath the fabric;

each roll of fat,

the swell of my belly,

the width of my hips,

my ripe and thick thighs.

My busty and sultry body,

made you lick your lips.

Throughout my life

I learned to hide my body;

society taught me to be ashamed

of my appearance.

But to you,

my curvaceousness was a feast

laid bare for you to consume.

You stepped closer to embrace me,

your hands mapping the contours

of my body,

sliding over the curve of my waist,

down my thighs,

and to the fullness of my ass.

I felt the pressure of your hands

grasping it;

digging into the pliable flesh,

teasing and kneading me like clay.

Then without a warning--rip.

The green cloth tore from me,

fell away in shreds.

I was bare

and caught in your carnal stare.

You moved behind me,

licking, kissing, bitting, and scratching

at the base of my spine;

then another surprise gripped me.

Fingers sinking into my cheeks,

spreading me wide open.

my knees threatened to buckle

at the abrupt exertion.

I felt the tip of your searing cock

pressed against my tight entrance.

A brutal promise of painful pleasure.

You began to push your way inside me.

Stretching, and splitting the intimate gap.

"Breathe," you whispered into my ear.

I inhaled and shuddered deeply

as you slowly pushed further inside.

A sob fell from my lips.

Your hips drove forward,

each thrust pulling me

beyond my body,

beyond myself.

Your hand slid to my throat,

tilting my head back,

forcing me to see the vast sky above us.

"Shame is a lie to cage our wildness."

And then you relentlessly fucked me

fast, hard and raw.

The sound of bodies colliding-

skin grinding against skin,

the rhythmic clap, clap, clap of my ass

quivering beneath you;

the wet slap of your pulsing cock

pounding my ass

echoed in the ruins,

like a heathen song of hunger

and possession.

Every thrust and penetration

tore through me

like a raging storm

tearing apart the earth,

shaking and remaking me.

A big part of me loved it so much,

drowning in pleasure.

And another part of me

was suffocating in shame.

Guilt weighed me down;

compressed my ribs.

I couldn't breathe.

My body warring between

contempt and rapture.

Memories of Adam's father flooded me.

His voice, his eyes, his presence.

He died and I felt a grief that broke my heart.

But I also felt a torturous guilt

for fucking his son, my new lover.

But I love Adam as I loved his father.

I felt conflicted and torn between the two.

The sky, black and endless,

watching as you wrecked me.

In an ecstatic and grave alter state,

I remembered what you said,

"The gods don't care about the lines

mortals draw..."

The gods don't care about morality;

Mistress you don't care about sin.

All you care about it transforming the taboo

transforming the shame within me;

pumping the guilt out of me.

So I can reach the depths

of who I'm meant to become.

Rain began to fall through the opening.

Cold droplets streamed down our bodies,

mixing with our sweat and heat.

Cooling the fever of my guilt and shame.

I clenched around your splendorous shaft

and you found my clit and began

stroking and encircling.

and still ploughing my exposed hole.

Th room spun,

up was down,

the rain fell harder,

and I gave myself to you,

all of me,

my body and soul.

I came,

writhing and screaming

your name

in the void.

I bet you could of fucked me into infinity

but you decided to fill me up

in this instance;

pouring your being, your magic,

the sticky floods of your forbidden fruit

into my innermost spot.

To transcend me.

And with this Desire,

I touch the Infinite.