Friday, September 16, 2011

Irresistible Destiny:Chapter 11 - Cumaen Sibyl

Books » 310 series » Twilight: Impossible Destiny
Author: seymourblogger
Rated: M - English - Fantasy/Romance - Published: 08-31-11 - Updated: 09-09-11id:7342016
Twilight: Irresistible Destiny

 The Cave of the Sibyl

According to the Roman poet Virgil, the entrance to the underworld lies inside the Cave of the Sibyl, a hole cut into the cliff that circumscribes Lake Avernus, a volcanic lake northwest of Naples, Italy.

Outside the sibyl's cave, you can see a sign carved into stone:

More History and Images

For Savage's Hide and Drink Edward

The blood blossom flowers
At the fragile girl's throat
The vampire bears down
Holding her imprisoned supine form
His mouth open
His lips caressing
Silken skin suckling
Plumbing pulsing each precise precious
Deep and delicious mouthful
Throbbing into him
Drinking and calming his frenzy
Then with his venom
Seals her wound.
Saving her for yet
Another day
Another night
Another time

Chapter 11 Death 


As we go up the stairs Bella begins to undress. At each landing she undoes more of her clothes.

My god I am ready for her.

I'm not sure I will even get in the door.

And then when we do and she begins screaming at me to take my pants off. I don't know who I am looking at. She is possessed. Her eyes are wild, her eyes are black and luminous, and she is unstoppable.

She goes down on her knees in front of me and takes me in her mouth. But I slide down her throat and her throat muscles clasp me tightly, pull me down deeper and deeper; her teeth graze me in warning. My god! Vagina Dentata!

She grabs the skin on my ass to hold on and then I am horror struck as I realize what's happening. I see it all the way to the end. To Death.

I am about to be initiated into a practice that has no return.

I hit her hard across the face to stun her.

And she gasps and I leave her throat and mouth in a rush.

She looks at me in hurt and astonishment, before she crumples into sobs while I am throwing her to the floor, on her back, restraining her with my body, hands, legs.

I know about this. It is ancient. The ecstasy it offers is without comparison. Anyone who indulges does not come away alive. I will come in her mouth and she will keep milking all of it out of me and it will be so wonderful I will want her to do it again. And again. In a short time my semen will become mixed with blood and she will milk my blood out of me. She will crave my blood and I will crave her mouth but her throat even more. She will bleed me, and I will beg her to keep bleeding me. As I die from lack of blood I will still beg her for just - yet - once - more.

And I will die.

 Just like those rats who press the bar to stimulate their pleasure center and don't drink, don't eat, don't fuck, don't take care of their babies. That's all they want. Just that. And it will be all I will want and all Bella will want. And when I die and there is no more of my blood she will go mad and die.

Asian prostitutes know this. Men did not die because they didn't have enough money to continue to the end. When AIDS came on the scene they were more careful and now it is impossible to find one who knows the ancient art, who will do it.

Mothers train their daughters starting in early childhood. Bella knows from a past life. We have done this in the past. We have died like this in the past. I know it, I know it. The desire is so strong, we must have never been able to resist before. I can hardly resist now and only because I know about it. If I didn't know about it I would never have stopped. And we would have been doomed yet one more time. My god. This is where this incredible demand that she be mine, mine and no one else's. Only her. She is the only one who can do this to me. I am the only one whose blood she will want once we begin.

Oh my god. This is where the legends of vampires come from, only the genders have been reversed to reveal and conceal the secret.

The sexual ecstasy just suggested, but death clear and open.

I keep telling her no, no, no that she doesn't know what she is doing.

She can't know. Now is not the time she will listen to words, so while she is sobbing I hold her tight around her sides and stomach and my left hand digs into the base of her spine where that abominable glorious kundalini energy lies dormant, a snake ready to coil out and strike when we least expect it.

I put my mouth on her and begin to devour her folds, her center, thrusting my tongue in her, sucking her clit, my teeth demanding she respond to me. Slowly she begins to move as I insist with my fingers, my mouth, my tongue, my moans, my voice humming against her.

She returns to this world of ours and looks at me eyes wide open, breathing heavily but no longer erratically.

"What happened? What Happened! Where was I? I was gone. I was in another time. I couldn't stop. I wanted to kill you if you left me. Is that what I meant when I said I would kill you if you even thought about trying to leave me? And I know given the slightest opportunity I would do it again in a heartbeat.

 How could you have stopped? Whatever made you stop? Why did you stop? I don't understand. Tell me. Tell me."

So I entered her slowly, pushing deeply into her, slowly, very slowly, and as I did I began to explain this ancient practice. I kissed her throat, her lips, her breasts, her nipples, and held her face with my hands and looked deeply into her eyes as I began to tell her about the beautiful, powerful Cumaean Sibyl who lived in a cave and was a prophetess.

Michelangelo painted her on the Sistine Chapel. Aeneas visited her to help him go into Hades and return. Virgil writes about her. And it was in her cave that a Christian burial ground was discovered in 1932.

Her cave looks just like a vagina. I have no doubt who those bodies belonged to. I was even willing to believe that I was one of them.

"No wonder I knew you right away when I saw you across the hallwayYou have haunted men's dreams for all time. And you know secrets of pleasure and power that you don't know you know. There is something beyond us going on.

I haven't asked but I know you are using a chemical means of birth control. No condom, IUD, jelly, cream or anything would stop what is going on with us. You have a barrier against me, a barricade so to speak. Something is in a frenzy to break it, to have us vulnerable to each other, vulnerable to danger and Death. Something is urging us uncontrollably to procreate and something else is trying just as forcefully and dangerously to stop that from happening by killing us. The tiniest of details disrupting destiny each time we almost met. That tiny thing kept diverting us, by ruining it for Destiny.

"If I had met you at the opening I would have known you, but we would have gotten to know each other a little slower, more socially. I have no doubt we would have been together, but in a more conventional way.

And I doubt we would have known what we know now in just these last 24 hours. And we would have had children without thinking about this and these forces propelling us and forbidding us, these avenging, dueling angels if you will. We just would never have known.

Perhaps we had children in the past? Maybe not. I think not. I think we died of this in the past. Many times. To keep us from procreating. But there would have been no transgression for us in New York City, that way. Everything would have proceeded naturally and normally. We might have lived at the edge of mainstream, but that would be it, just the edge, the avant garde. And I would have continued discovering my way through painting, and you might have continued to be a psychic. And we would have grown old together normally. No we would have died of this first, long before.

"But in that moment of Transgression our Doubles appeared. When the Double appears, then Death is by our side.

Only I think this time we fully know it. And that is our trial in this lifetime. We know more than we ever did before. Before we were just very willing victims. Unconscious. Unknowing. We have to protect each other this time.

"Your latest psychic endeavor is to distract you from the deep knowledge of who and what you are and what we are. It was exciting enough to do that. So was my painting. My success with it. My independence from the standard art world. Mary Boone helped me as she has been doing this for strange and singular artists for a long time now.

But oh my god, this is way out of my league.

Without that moment of Transgression in the hallway we would never have known.

And then I hushed and lost myself in her, entering her anew over and over, slow and slower, until my control slipped and I began to lose it again. I couldn't stop. I couldn't have stopped if the hotel burned down around us.

I was gone.

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