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Nights of Alsitor: Hades and Persephone Ch. 01

By: Synovex



Hades gritted his teeth, fingers twitching at his side. He was panting, drips of sweat running down his bare back, his shoulders, his forehead, soaking the blindfold. It annoyed him, though it was fine silk, he fought the impulse to take it off. He had been preparing for this night, deep in the caves that span the foundations of the Alsitor mountain range, and his role as [prisoner/guest/slave/student] was not one he had volunteered for without heavy consideration. He didn't blame his beloved motherland for losing a war long ago, but were taught to be grateful that an everlasting truce could be formed for the low price of a dozen young men every year. Those sent to the Ephaemeryl nation were always returned a month later, alive, but never speaking about the strange Ephaemeryl race- oddly twisted bodies, piping voices with the power to rob weak men of their sanity, eyes that can warp a man's willpower- but would often be summoned back, sworn by fear to silence of ever speaking of the dread 'moon of honey.' His muscles taut, Hades curled his lip- he had no idea what to expect, but he was determined to face it bravely.

He raised his head, listening to footsteps approach from in front. He had been blindfolded, led into the caverns by a band of his villagers, and left there with nothing in his possession but a blindfold, a silver-trimmed black leather belt, and the long, flowing rune-marked loincloth hanging off his meaty haunches down to his knee. The custom was ancient, and respected. Hades straightened up, arms at his side, ready.

"Are you afraid?"

That voice cut through his confidence like a shard of glass; higher-pitched, but somehow not childish, and smooth in a way that warmed him. An ancient, carefully-bred endocrine system begins to turn its gears in Hades' pineal and pituitary glands. A tugging sensation, like great thorny roots were growing along his bones, making an odd, pleasant itchiness, and thunder rolled in his gut.

Was this the power of an Ephaemeryl?

He gulped. "I felt fear when I was blindfolded, but fear will not protect me now. That which is, is. I have only myself now."

"Good. They trained you well. Now, what are you? And try to impress me, this time."

Hades braced his shoulders- he had been expecting the question. "I am Hades Neptyun, 19th son of the January generation of Dolmen, the village on the west side of the mountain. I have a strong back, I'm quick on my feet, and I do not fear pain. I cook, I am an archer, I grow food, I know carpentry, and I am proficient in renewable energy, neuroscience, and three extant languages. I am sworn and loyal to the elders and the whole village, and for their sake I offer myself to your mercy."

"Very good. Now, tell me. Will you kneel?"

Hades paused. His skin was warm, and he didn't know why he was breathing so deeply. His body wavered, then he shook his head. "Before I came here, my Breadparent and Smithparent both made me swear that I would never bow to a stranger. I do not know your name, or your face."

Unsure if he had chosen well, he braced himself as the footsteps walked right up in front of him. Hades heard silence for a moment, and his spine jolted when someone suddenly grabbed his blindfold and pulled it off.

Hades choked, his eyes wide. He had heard stories of the Ephaemeryl, heard descriptions, seen the statues and reliefs around the city depicting them, but having one alive, right there, in front of him- it was wearing a cloak embroidered with sigils, but its face was haunting and pleasing. They were shorter than the men of his village, and with weaker jaws, but something about this creature, with bronze skin and long brown locks of hair curling and tumbling down her shoulders made Hades care very much about how she felt about him. She spoke;

"I am Persephone DeCeres, Duchess of this hamlet and appointed as your usher. You shall be my responsibility, and so long while you are here you are bound in obedience to me. I shall only accept you under my roof if you are clear of the oaths that bind you."

"I know them," he frowned, strawberry-blonde hair sticking up from him in spikes, "I've studied them for years. I shall not forget them."

Persephone smiled. "Good" she said, fidgeting with her clasp. It clicked open, and she tossed the cloak aside. She stood there, lit by the bright fluorescent synth-algae on the cave walls, braids and knots pained up her thighs and ribs, all naked except for a frilly strip of leather hanging from her neck, dangling in her cleavage and covering her belly and genitals, and a length of bead-covered string that wound criss-crossing her whole body. She was astoundingly beautiful, tan and muscular, with curvy hips and smooth, juicy breasts. Hades' mind was scrambling to process seeing the first adult female he had ever seen: so slim, he thought, like it will tip over, and those swollen legs and haunches- but that chest! I've never seen such muscles! With those pecs it could crush and oak barrel! His head was spinning as he looked into Persephone's eyes.

She said one word; "Kneel."

Hades didn't even consider it. He fell to his knees, staring at Persephone, her perfume wafting into his senses. He could feel his IQ dropping. She bent over and took his wrists, picking them up. There was a handprint painted on Persephone's left hip, as well as one on her right breast. She pressed Hades' hands into both of them. Tears streaming down his face, he stared at the smooth, hairless body. His hands squeezed gently- So soft! He felt like he would melt.

"Now, it is time for you to swear your contract. Are you ready?" He nodded dumbly. She reached up and grabbed the necklace, pulling it off and away, revealing the column of black calligraphy tracing down from her sternum to her sex. "Read it out loud."

Hades stared at it; it wasn't complicated. "No more wait, get the g- Ga- huh-" The regional language's word 'Gate' was designed to look like a vagina, and its use in this writing illustrated the point so well, it brought a lifetime of sexual symbolism and innuendo conflagrating in his mind. "Gate."

Keeping his hands on her, she grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head and pulled him forward, pressing the bridge of his nose against her clitoris and holding him there.

"Now, will you kneel?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation, no pride, no resistance.

"Are you afraid?"

"No," he grinned manically, tugging the flesh he had been privileged to touch.

"What are you?"

Hades' whole body spasmed with paroxysms of pleasure, kicking his legs out but never losing the contact on his face and hands. His voice rumbled with something hungry and primal when he answered;

"Yours."

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Nights of Alsitor: Hades and Persephone Ch. 02



Persephone gently pushed Hades away and stepped back, his hands reluctantly sliding from her flesh. She turned and walked toward the gate behind her. Still on his knees, he stared enthralled at the coxinant twists of her retreating buttocks. His callipygian captor paused and looked back at him and gave one word. "Follow."

Hades scrambled to his feet and was fast on her heels, even as she retreated into a long, unlit tunnel. He followed her into darkness so thick he couldn't see his own hands, but he was not afraid. Persephone clearly knew these caves well, and he faithfully followed the clear tinkling sound of the pair of bells tied to her thigh.

Hades had lost track of time before they emerged into a larger chamber, an amphitheater centered around a raised dias covered in fabric and pillows, lit by the embers of several ornate braziers. The room could have accommodated hundreds, but there were only six figures lounging near the middle altar. Each had a unique style of dress, the way their hair was adorned, the shades of their skin and shapes of their figure, but each was unmistakably Ephaemeryl, like Persephone. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, his eyes darted from one to another; he never would have believed that he could experience the emotions provoked in him by Persephone ever again, and here he was feeling them anew, each one of the captors bringing about a different, intense feeling throbbing from his heart to odd corners of his body. Everyone was watching Hades, some of them stone-faced, most of them smirking in amusement, chatting with each other in the strange tongue of the Ephaemeryl, their soft, lilting falsetto reverberating through the chamber, shaking the foundations of Hades' mind. They were observing him as if he were some fascinating oddity.

One of the women, short and stocky with milky skin and gold hair, stood up and addressed Persephone in their inscrutable language. They chatted back and forth, and Hades could only assume that this person was doubtful about something... maybe him? Was his quality in question?

The shorter one shrugged and said something that sounded like a question. Persephone turned to look at Hades.

"Hades." At the sound of his name, Hades' hungry, wandering eyes locked into Persephone's gaze. "Kneel."

Sparks sprinkled down from the nearby braziers, his knees hit the ground so hard. A wave of airy laughter swept over the audience, and the short gold-haired creature waved her hand, saying something that sounded appeased.

Hades was nervous- he still wasn't sure what to expect, but kept rapt attention to his mistress. The toned, muscular lines of her bronzed body led his gaze up to the padded altar, where she turned around and sat on its edge.

"Hades," she trilled, brushing a long curtain of wavy brown hair behind her shoulder, crossing her legs, completely unabashed by her own nakedness, "Do you know why we take tribute? Why prisoners are sent from the nation of Myieaoul every year?"

Hades tried to clear his mind enough to reach into memory. "Uhmm... the condition of peace, to punish our nation for attempting to invade the Ephaemeryl in our arrogance for-"

"No." Persephone leaned forward, the strange, soft lobes swelling from her pectoral muscles swaying beneath her shoulders as she stared into Hades. "The Myieaoul have been our allies for generations. The Ephaemeryl are deeply indebted to your nation for their service, and vice versa. Tribute is one reason why our alliance has been so mutually beneficial; leaders of one nation groomed at the mercy of another. You were not brought, Hades, as a sacrifice. You offered yourself to torture and death willingly, which means you have earned a rank most of your kind will never know. It is my responsibility- our responsibility," she gestured around the room, "to teach you... shape you... guide you into being a servant worthy of holding thousands of lives at your mercy."

Hades was dumbfounded and agog. His whole universe had been shaken, and he struggled to clutch all the fragments. Persephone smiled, edging up onto the altar until she was reclining onto a pile of cushions. "The first step to teaching, however, is to learn what kind of student you are. Most humans can handle adversity, but a true test of virtue is to give someone power. So, Hades... Show me what you would do with power." She leaned back until she was limp against the fabric, spread out across the altar. "I grant you complete power over me. I order you to do whatever you want to me."

Hades couldn't breathe. The whispered chatter among the audience, the entire chamber, nothing existed except for that altar, and the goddess' prone form in the fires' glow. He leaned forward until he was on all fours, and began to crawl. He made it to the base of the dias, and climbed on top- the textiles were soft, amazingly fine, and of no interest to him as he crouched at the feet of his mistress, who looked down on him without judgement. His sturdy, well-muscled frame trembling with weakness, his eyes darted across every inch of Persephone.

Immovable humility made a compromise with eager obedience; Grasping her left ankle with one hand, he cradled her foot in the other, raising it gently as he bent down to plant a firm kiss in the delicate arch of her foot.

An impressed murmur rose from the audience. Persephone smiled. "Good. Keep going."

Hades' mind was swimming, and he struggled to control his motions. His hands moved further and further up her leg, kissing, licking, giving the gentlest, most respectful bite now and again. Halfway up, he pushed and pulled to raise and straighten her knee, puffing a hot breath onto her skin as he passionately kissed the back of her knee- Ephaemeryl physiology was a mystery to him, but he was well-versed in anatomy and the pleasures of the peripheral nervous system, and knew how to put his knowledge to use. Dragging his fingertips up along her inner thigh, he kissed closer and closer to her sex. His hand slid underneath, his palm gliding along her smooth buttocks and up the small of her back. His vision dimmed into splashes of color as he brushed his lips to her vulva. 

He kissed it, again and again, before probing with his tongue- an opening? It goes deeper? He probed, turning and twisting as he tried to map this strange territory. Persephone was breathing hard and heavy, and the crowd was commenting in their strange language, but Hades paid no mind; he was lost and gone in a faraway place. He curled both his arms around both her thighs, his fingertips tousling her mons pubis. He closed his eyes and grinned, dragging his face back and forth against her crotch, bathing in her fleecy pubic fur like they were summer sunrays.

"Good," Persephone panted, "That's good, Hades..."

Hades pushed his hands against the cushions, lifting himself just enough to resume kissing. His eyes rolled lazily over the script stained into Persephone's abdomen- he had first read it but twenty minutes ago, and it was already a fond, cherished memory. The privilege of being able to immerse himself so completely in such nostalgia was an ecstasy that he relished with each letter he traced with his tongue, each syllable he punctuated with a kiss.

The tip of his nose reached the cleavage between Persephone's breasts. Hades took a deep breath, sliding both his hands up under her shoulders. Letting out a long, deep, hot sigh, he sank down into her body, pressing the full length of his trunk against her, gripping her shoulders as he pulled himself up, his head sliding neatly between her breasts.

Persephone glanced around- most of the audience were nodding in approval, the rest were staring in admiration and envy. She smiled, pleased at their success so far. "That's very good, Hades. Don't worry, you can do anything you want, anything at all-"

"-Snnkkkxxzzz..." The rumble of a deep snore reverberated through the chamber. Persephone stared disbelievingly at the limp body pressing her into the pillows, a wide grin on the face tucked snugly into her cleavage. The audience could not contain their delighted laughter, which was not enough to break his slumber.

"I don't believe it," Persephone pouted with a smile, running her fingers through his wild, blonde hair as he nuzzled deeper into her. "Ah, poor thing. You've had a long day, yes? Rest now. We'll have time tomorrow."



Nights of Alsitor: Hades and Persephone Ch. 03



Hades opened his eyes, and was lost.

He was on his back, naked and cold, his body sore where it was pressed against the curling shapes carved into the stone floor. Over his head was a stone vault, fifty feet across and decorated with a magnificent frieze depicting scenes and letters he could not understand, lit by the dim glow of the fluorescent synth-algae crafted by the cave-nation's organsmiths.

He sat up with a grunt. He had slept like a log and was well-rested, if a bit hungry, but he understood that the happy memory left by Persephone wouldn't be enough to save him from the upcoming trials. Survivors of tribute were fiercely loyal to the iron-clad secrecy demanded by the Ephaemeryl nation, revealing only that they were subjected to a crucible designed to test the very fabric of their identity. Hades' imagination ricocheted through his head as he looked around; the symbol he had been sleeping on was at the center of the chamber, and was surrounded at its periphery by seven distinct, unusual symbols, each one in the direction of a different door, each door leading down a hallway. He was in the center of an underground stone maze, and his heart wept with dread at the possibilities hiding in the hallways.

His eye caught on one symbol; an upside-down yellow triangle resting between two pink circles. He looked up to the corresponding gate, and, with a resolved sigh, walked through.

Hades had followed the dim hallway through a few turns when he heard it; singing. A soft, melodic humming of a tune he almost recognized, in a voice that was undeniably Ephaemeryl. He turned a corner and found himself in a room, large as a hall and lavishly furnished with sofas, mirrors, desks and amenities. In a large alcove carved into a rock, humming in her clear, shining voice, was an Ephaemeryl turned toward what looked like an oven at the bottom of a chimney.

Hades stood, transfixed at her back wrapped in white fabric flowing from a green girdle, the edges of her body curving in and out in ways that bent his mind. He felt the forced perspective of her bulging hips and buttocks, making them seem like they were pushing towards him. She was short, gold-haired, white-skinned and salaciously plump, and when she raised her arms he caught a glimpse of the side of the odd swelling of her chest. He recognized her as the one who had questioned Persephone.

With a tut-tut and a brushing of her hands, she turned around. As she raised her eyes to Hades, she flinched with a gasp. Hades, in a daze up to then, became aware of himself standing naked before a stranger.

"Oh!" he shrank down bashfully, "I've intruded! I am so sorry," he hurried for the door, shaking his head, "this is bad, I'm terribly-"

"Stop!" Her voice was light and beautiful, but he could still sense the command in her word. He turned around, confused. She could speak his language?

The person in white had already calmed down. Pressing a hand to her breast, she tilted her head and smiled at him. "You had chosen me first! I had not been chosen first before. I have been this happy for that!" Her accent and manner of speaking was distinct from Persephone, but she definitely had a command of the language. She walked over to a cushioned sofa, sitting in one and patting the seat beside her. "You should come! I had sat, you had best sit beside here!"

Unsure but obedient, Hades gulped and walked over to her, holding his arms in front of him as best he could. Nervously avoiding her eyes, he sat down- the cushion sank under him, amazingly soft and joyously warm against his chilly skin.

"You had been there early!" she continued, seeming to be utterly pleased with the scenario. She had bright green eyes, a button nose, and scarlet lips with a modest mole above the corner of her mouth. "It had been kind of you to fall asleep. We had no need to drug you! Waking early has no issue."

He looked at her, and she at him. Her eyes darted to the oven, then back to him, and her smile widened. "This has time. I can have something. Tell me, Hades... do you like corn?"

Holding her gaze, he furrowed his brow, confused by the question. "Uhm... yes?"

"And cheese? You had liked cheese?" Her gaze was intense, and she was drawing deeper breaths.

"Yes... yes, I like cheese a lot."

"And spices?" she scooted closer to him on the couch, "Spices that burn? And garlic? And salt?"

"I like all of those things, but why-"

Hades was cut off by a melodic chime from an odd clockwork contraption on a nearby counter. She hopped to her feet and scurried over to the oven, grabbing some towels and opening the door. Hades heard the sound of sizzling and wondered what kind of curious fare they ate in the caves. She walked back to him, placing a tray on the low table before the couch. It was unimpressive to look at, a pile of jagged scraps splattered with some bubbling beige slime, splotchy with a dusting of spices that was clearly not designed to look presentable.

Then the smell hit him.

Oh Moon and Sky, the smell! A sharp pain hit his jaw as his salivary glands exploded in excitement, and his empty stomach roared as he stared wide-eyed at the plain-looking dish before him, the fragrance of garlic and pepper and hot carbohydrates churning in his nostrils. She plopped down next to him. "Here, we had called this... a 'nacho.' It had long served us as a staple, and I have pride in my skill to cook. Now, Hades, I want to do something." As he looked at her, her face was dead serious. "I want to watch you eat it."

He paused only a moment to see if she was joking, but he didn't question her. Leaning over the table, he grabbed a corner and pulled off a piece of the mass, marveling at the beauty of the strings stretching apart. He placed the shard on his tongue and bit down. The memory of that moment would reverberate through the rest of his life. He burned his tongue and he didn't care, the ballet of cheese and seasoning sweeping across his senses and erasing his worries. He grabbed another piece, then another, then another, scarfing them down before he realized he was eating alone. Embarrassed, he swallowed and turned to his host, who was watching him intently with a blush in her cheeks and a focused intensity in her eyes.

"You, uh... had better have some?" he offered uncertainly. "If you don't, I might eat them all."

"Eat them all," she commanded. "I had ate always, they are not special to me, but your first taste is a treasure. I am enjoying this more than you."

Hades was confused, but also hungry and he didn't need another invitation. He descended on the nacho like a wolf on a lamb, his hands barely having time to touch them between the tray and his mouth. As he filled up, he slowed to savor the experience, admiring the shape and form of the crispy tiles and the way the pale gel wrapped around each one. In minutes, the tray was empty.

"Do you know why that had made me happy?" she asked, her face and voice revealing a strange excitement. Hades shook his head, sluggish from the meal. "Empathy. A skill that can be strengthened, the link between souls that shares pain, that can be very terrible. When your parents had died of sickness, or your friend had suffered some injury, you had cursed empathy for the pain. But sometimes," she leaned in close to him, her bosom brushing his bare arm, "you share the right moment. I have much empathy, and have it for you. To share in your first nacho, that is worth the pain of empathy."

She twisted, pulling her thigh onto the sofa to face Hades. "You are grateful for nacho?"

Hades responded rapidly, "Yes! Oh, yes, thank you!"

With a satisfied grin, she nodded. "And I am grateful to you for having them. In the world, so much is to make the other lose, to defeat the competition, to take from or have taken from you. That this, this nacho, can happen? That two can both be grateful? It is rare, and it is precious. Something that our nations long ago chose to cultivate as an art, pursue as a dream, and protect fiercely. That is why there is tribute."

She clapped her hands and smiled at Hades. "Now. Important lesson in empathy is gratitude, important lesson in gratitude is reciprocation. Are you ready to reciprocate?"

Screamingly curious, he nodded. She put her hand to his chest and pushed him back slowly, until he had descended into the wonderful kingdom of that sofa, fine fabrics containing feather-softness pressing him at all sides, making him feel like he was lying on a cloud.

He watched intently as she reached to the back of her neck and tugged at a string. Two lengths of fabric rising from the edge of her girdle tumbled forward, unleashing the shape of her chest. Hades' jaw dropped- he still wasn't used to Ephaemeryl physiology, and something about these growths just blew him away. Hers were different from those of Persephone, milky-white with teensy pink nipples, and each one about the size of his head.

"For you to learn, that is out task. From me, you must learn of this," she slid her hands under each of the lobes, lifting them. Hades' mind felt like a ship in a storm. "They have many names. Do you know what they are?"

Dumbstruck, he answered weakly, "Everyone knows the stories. How as Ephaemeryl grow, they are visited by a pair of beings, angels of pure mercy and compassion that bring only warmth and love, with bodies molded of hope made solid, whose heart's blood is the very essence of life itself."

She raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Good. You enjoy?"

In Hade's mind, that sentence was grammatically incorrect and of unclear meaning. "Yes," he said with certainty.

"What you must learn..." she continued, rubbing her hands over her breasts, "For us, they are very delicate, fragile... the slightest injury is agony." She dragged her fingers up across her nipples. "...but there is pleasure there, a special joy. The way it feels to be moved... it had been good memories, something one wants to do again." She reached over him, putting her hand on his thigh, and heaving herself up to sit in his lap. Her generous weight pressing down on him, putting him deeper into the cushion, was magnificent. "You touch the angels, I feel my angels touched, and we are both grateful, yes?" She slowly reclined, laying down on top of him until the top of her head brushed his chin.

A surge of animal lust exploded in Hades. With a snarl, he slapped his hands to her flesh and gripped them like a rock-climber. Instantly, she yelped "STOP!" and he pulled his hands away, terrified.

"I- oh, I'm so sorry! I've hurt you, I've hurt the angels, oh I'll never-"

"Hades," she interrupted him, reaching back to stroke his cheek. She pulled her head back to look up at him. There was no anger in her eyes. "You are here as my student. If you do not know something, it is because I need to teach you." She took his hands and lay them on top of her breasts. "Gently, this time."

His hands didn't move for a second, laying limp on top of her flesh. Slowly, he stretched out his fingers, dragging his fingertips lightly against her skin, tracing circles that went wider and wider until his touch flitted all across her orbs- his hands felt so rough and jagged compared to her unblemished skin.

"Good. Deeper, now."

Gulping, Hades wrapped his palms around each mammary. He flexed his hands, squeezing a little, then a little more, pumping them harder and harder until she said, "Good. That's enough." Noting her pain threshold, he maintained that firmness, pleased that he was actually learning to understand these baffling artifacts. He kept like that for nearly a minute before she added, "Make them move."

They were both breathing heavily already, but her words triggered something in him. He cupped the breasts from below and pushed them up, then squished them back down. He squeezed them against each other, then tugged them to the side. He flattened them against her ribs, then scooped them straight away from her. Hades couldn't comprehend how this creature's body was warping his mind, but he enjoyed it like a recreational drug. He obsessively observed her every response, the whimpers under her breath, the way her body twisted in time to her breasts, drafting a map in his mind of what she enjoyed. With a few minutes of exploration, his hands moved like that of an artist; sliding up her cleavage, drumming his fingers, giving a playful jiggle, delicately rolling the nipples.

Indented into the couch, their bodies rubbing together, she was breathing faster and faster until she gave a squeal and sat upright. Lifting herself to her feet, she picked up the flaps of her dress and secured them, covering her breasts again. Turning to the confused and still jug-drunk Hades, she lauded him. "You have done very well. I am satisfied. You are ready. It is time to continue your journey."

"I- wha-" Hades argued, "Just like that? It's done?"

"I am. For now. You have much to learn, and many teachers. This lesson is over, but there are many more."

"But, I- you- will I ever see you again?"

"If you choose to return, you may find me. I travel often, and in years of tribute I have had many students, but you shall always be able to find me if you try."

"Others? ...I suppose there would be, wouldn't there."

"Yes," she sighed, putting her hands on her hips, "I understand it is hurtful for your kind to think of this, but it must be. You had not been first or last for me."

Sitting up, Hades was clearly disappointed at the prospect of being forgotten. "Could-" he hesitated, the sadness tainting his voice, "Could you please tell me your name?"

She looked at him, surprised. Slowly, a grin spread over her blushing face. She took Hades' head in her hands and planted a kiss on his forehead- the first kiss he'd ever been given by an Ephaemeryl. She looked deep in his eyes and said, "Few students have asked me that. You are special to me, and I shall remember you. My name is Hera. I hope for you good fortune, Hades."