Oneiros’ path

Posted: July 3, 2015 in Erotica
Tags: , , , , ,


He walked, where, he couldn’t tell. There were no signs, buildings, landmarks, or in fact, anything at all. Only the path beneath his feet. A long, winding path, which seemed to stretch to the infinite.

He looked back, then forward. Side to side, up and down. Nothing. Only a path. So he kept walking upon it.

How he had got here (wherever here was), he didn’t know. His mind was a blank, and since no other option appeared to be any better, he just walked along the stone path. Or at least, it felt like stone. He couldn’t be sure. Feeling was a funny thing in this place.

Something caught his attention up ahead. Was that someone else? He squinted, but it was just maddeningly beyond his field of vision. The horizon was hazy; it shimmered like a desert road at noon. But he had definitely seen something just ahead, though it appeared to be gone now. So he kept walking.

The path stretched before him, and appeared to go on forever. It didn’t seem to lead anywhere in particular though. It occured to him that a path to nowhere was just one of the weirdest things ever, and yet, at the same time, it made perfect sense.

Movement again! This time definitely closer. Was that a woman? The ghostly figure had a female feel to it, even at a distance, he could have sworn it had been a woman. A naked woman, to be precise. For the first time, he became aware of his own nakedness. Curiously, he felt no embarrassment or awkwardness. He simply had a moment of matter-of-factly realization, sort of. He was naked, and that was that. Who was he to question such singularity, eh.

So he kept walking. After what felt like miles of a serpentine route through nowhere land, the path straightened up just a bit further ahead. In fact, there appeared to be a crossroads coming up.

And standing there, right at the crossroads, was his quarry. And yes, it certainly was a beautiful, naked woman.

She paid no heed to him, at first. She simply sat there, crosslegged, as if meditating, her back turned towards him. As he approached this strange apparition, he notice her slender body was decorated with queer signs and symbols that he could not readily identify. Her whole back was covered in these things, and her long red tresses seemed to conceal more of the queer drawings. He reached out with his hand to touch her, but her voice made him freeze in midair.
‘Runes,’ she said, and he withdrew his hand at once, as if backing off from fire. ‘My creator etched them on me, long ago.’
She stood up then, gracefully, unfolding her legs in a pure and nimble move. She stood with her back still turned towards him. He watched her every move, her every muscle working to lift that beautiful body. She was pale, yet there was an elegance and a purpose to her fair skin. He could not help but think of touching that slender shape, to run his fingers down her back and beyond, and feel her body react to his touch. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his cock began hardening at these thoughts.

He took a closer look at her body. Now that he was close enough, he realized that the runes were indeed carved on the woman’s body, rather than painted on. They were all over her body; down her legs, on her ass, and all the way up her back. He hadn’t seen her front yet, but he imagined the other side would be just the same.He tried to imagine who (or what) could have done that to such beautiful girl. The runes were done in painstaking detail; one could perceive minute details and nuances in them. The time that it must have taken to do that, not to mention the girl’s suffering. Yet, as a whole, the combination of flesh and arcane art had an unmistakable mysticism about it. The girl looked like a goddess.


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