Interlude with Myth

The small part of Caiside that was yet to be overrun with pleasure wanted to respond, but his voice was far to busy trying to keep up with the cacophony of moans rushing out from between his lips. It had been his flaws that had landed him in this position, pressed between a tree and a god and quite literally going mad with pleasure. The liquid pressure against his back made Caiside keen, and try to roll his head back against the lips-teeth-whisper that teased him. A word he felt but didn’t understand in the moment was pressed against him, and then it seemed as if his mind split, an inescapable pleasure pressing against every part of him except where he wanted it most. Hands and silks and tongue, sharp pinpricks of teeth and nails and things he couldn’t even name, the sensations were indescribable, and impossible to pin down. Every time Caiside thought he had found one to focus on, enjoy most, another tickle would pull the thread of his attention away, until he was nearly lost in the confines of his own body and pleasure. Under it all though, there was a sense of power. He was at the centre of all of this. Frey provided it, yes, but he was the subject. It was this attitude that brought laughter to his lips, both sets that he was aware of, in response to the question. Even if he had known better, had known what to expect, he wouldn’t have called anyone different. His service would still be offered to any other divinity that graced him, but not so wholly handed over like it was to Frey. Between the two pieces his mind was in, and the ever distracting sensation on every part of his body, it took Caiside a moment to gather himself enough to speak. ”I serve,” He began, suddenly unaware of if he was speaking or thinking the words, not feeling his lips move but hearing his own voice anyway, ”but I am not a servant.” Depite his struggle to get them out, the words were backed by an iron bound conviction. He was a servant only to his own desires and whims, and he would do what he needed to see them realized. If serving a God like Frey would get him closer to his goals, to power and devotion and recognition, then he would serve happily. The fact that he could enjoy himself while doing it was only honey drizzled on top. Caiside You know how it goes, this story’s been told again and again A love, pure and light, that makes stars align Well that’s not the case here