the Lord of Shadow. To the despair of the world, Cheitan became.
As only the most cruel can be, he was a black sinful beauty, and
on unfurled wings of smoke, he circles high upon the midnight winds.
Burning fire in his phantom heart, and lacking even a shred of a soul,
subsisting on the pain and fear of the innocent; his lusts driving him to
seek, search, hunting for his prey.
Unknowing of the danger, as night descended and the full moon rose
in the sparkling black sky like a ghostly white presence behind a misty veil,
he found me sitting by a wandering river of wistful sad sighs.
Lost in my fanciful imaginings of love and tenderness
— a world without screams —
trailing my bare feet in the cool mountain water;
wondering, wishing, dreaming of forever.
When a violent storm of chaos and madness suddenly arose —
thunder cracked, it’s whipping sound echoing in my lonely valley,
and lightening glowed, casting upon me, black cypress shadows.
The gentle whispering wind swept up into a frenzied gale,
and on its snapping, stinging howl, a dark scent unfurled
that set my innocent virtue up into hot passionate flames which
consumed, craved, and hungered for something unknown to me.
And then, in a flash of light I saw him there, standing tall
and far more than fair. His skin was as golden as the purest gold;
his body sculpted and chiseled in magnificent perfection;
his face a most terrible splendor of sharp lines and harsh planes,
and it was bent into an arrogant smile, full of wicked delight.
He had heard the silent plea I sent on the Eastern wind, and came to
devour, devastate, and destroy that which he could never possess.
Yes, I feared this creature of Hell, who came to me in a flash of weakness,
when my heart grieved and I was willing to give and sacrifice all,
for one moment — just one — of absolute freedom. Yet I could not
stop his slow pursuit; I would not turn away from his terrible eyes
that sliced through to my soul with their golden serration. And,
like a magnet drawn to its opposite, I approach him on feet that
glided, drifted, flowed to the ultimate corruptor.
In his arms, he took me into an inescapable grasp;
without permission, without care, he claimed my lips for his own
‘till with fire and heat — fantastic passion — I was branded body and soul.
His lips took their nourishment from mine; biting and lapping
with his bold tongue thrust deep within. His hands — O, hands! —
touching in forbidden places of pleasurable delight, until I was
drowning, burning, dying for everything.
How does one survive Cheitan’s kiss? Fool girl, it is but a kiss!
How shall I survive when he takes what he was born without?
My innocence — is such a thing as precious as the shadowed caress?
The panic began where there was but wanton desire before.
I fought his harsh hands and that cruel, cruel mouth; I fought the fire,
but my mind began to give in to the overwhelming sensations,
clouding, obscuring, deceiving what was right and what was wrong.
My gown fell away under his hands, and, with a soft breath, it was whisked away
on a strong gust of wind to disappear into the inky night. My hair,
also loosed, wrapped us in a cloud of white as he leaned in for another kiss.
His mouth was a flavor of the nightmares that wake with a thrill in the night,
dangerous secrets, with just a hint of honey enough to entice for yet another taste.
For how can something so wicked be sweet? So forbidding, so succulent;
tempting, enticing, luring me with his strange inconsistencies.
As his wings encircled our bodies, their velvety smoke cushioning us
against the unyielding earthen floor, I surrendered to his will.
I allowed his naked body to cover my own, and the sweet rapture
of his flesh on mine sparked my abandon. My hands glided over the
smooth silk covering his hard strength, my fingers caressing each curve,
dipping into each crevasse, until I had touched every inch,
exploring, learning, uncovering the mysteries of his body.
He spread my legs wide, and settled between their silken embrace.
His rigid desire, full and ever ready, slid down my stomach,
and my body arched when the swollen head brushed against
my soft down covered cleft; my womanhood throbbing in reply.
Confused at my bewildering reactions, my world was but a purr of senses
that ignited in a burst of flame when he suddenly pushed through
penetrating, piercing, entering the cradle of my innermost heat.
My scream was lost in the storm, the sharp pain of my lost innocence
swallowed by the tempest of Cheitan’s raging lust. When he plunged in again,
again and again, my screams turned to those of unsurpassable ecstasy.
I was filled so completely; stretched beyond what my body could endure,
yet my body tingled with raw pleasure as the thick length of him slid
in and out, in and out — yes, O, God! — in and out, in and out;
harder, faster, closer to sweet, sweet agony.
Sweet, sweet agony! I shattered into a million bright rainbows.
Shudders racked my entire body with relentless and violent pleasure
until the vivid colors hushed, and I knew nothing but a peaceful white
that enveloped my mind. Rocked like a newborn babe, my soul rested;
tranquil for the moment. I was sated in a way never before experienced,
and I longed for nothing more than to slip into the slumber, where I might
dream, delight, glory in my sumptuous contentment.
But then, I felt the ache of my passing self spear through me,
and I fell back into the storm that had not yet abated. Above me,
Cheitan continued to ride me, and he began weaving a murmured spell
in a language completely incomprehensible, yet utterly beautiful to me.
Already lost in his touch, his enchantment, my heart could not hear the
sinister suggestion in the dark of my Daemon Lord’s haunting voice,
healing, mending, soothing away my inconvenient tenderness.
He growled — More! — in my ear, and I felt him harden and lengthen within,
‘till, with each vicious thrust, he touched the very end of me and beyond.
With an unkind hand, he cupped my breasts; squeezing and fondling.
There was great pain, and within the pain a perverse form pleasure bloomed,
the heat surging from my womb to infuse my entire being, and I was ashamed.
I tried to battle the immoral feelings that coursed through me;
humiliating, disgracing… enjoying myself.
Letting his heavy weight upon my slight form, so that I could scarce breath,
Cheitan reveled in his absolute power over me, my body, my soul.
Claiming that thin scrap of innocence was not what this Daemon craved,
but to turn my wholesome world into one of decadent depravity.
When finished with his seductions he leaves behind an untamed wanton,
a lascivious siren that shall lead the good of man to the burning gates,
open, welcoming, ready with the whip and lash, and chains of eternity.
With a whispered sound, he let the rain cascade in heavy drops over our mated bodies.
He lifted me, turning me away, and entered my wet warmth from behind.
My arms, he lifted to the weeping heavens, and his hands slithered down
the curves of my breasts — stopping to roll the sensitive peaks between his fingers —
and I curved into his touch as he skimmed the flat expanse of my abdomen.
Sliding lower – the rain gliding him – ever lower, till he
hunted, stalked, plundered a place that made my body cry out in wonder.
He slipped and slid between the folds until I was mindlessly rocking
— my hips slowly undulating in rhythm with his dark, clever fingers —
and, when he released me from his iron grip, my head tipped back.
I impaled myself on his body with wondrous ferocity. Unconstrained
by the bonds of tedious respectability and uncompromising propriety,
there was nothing but glorious freedom in my mind and body,
rolling, plunging, driving us both beyond recklessness.
Sweet, sweet agony began again to spread through my body,
and the ground began to quake, as a dark rumble filled my mind.
Cheitan seized my hips like a vice, rammed in once, twice, and
with the third, he let out a roar that echoed across the world.
His anger and lust coating my womb in a flare of searing fire,
burning me from within, until he was drained;
empty, replete, content for but a moment in time.
We lay together, my Lord and I, our bodies entwined as our senses reawaken.
The storm had passed, and the moon hung like a shining sickle in the East.
There was silence – no wind, no thunder – except for the muted hiss
as the dwindling heat loosed the rain from the saturated soil
so that it might rise again into the sky, and the quieter sighs
of the forgotten river. All was as before… except for me.
Altered, transformed, reborn into a golden Wraith of the Shadows.
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/love-poems/wraith-of-shadows