Rachel stood naked as the day she was born high atop a
mountain peak far from the place she called home. She preferred the word nude. When and why had nudity become shameful? She would never understand mortals’ obsession
with their bodies and genitals. The
creators fashioned everything for a reason.
Functionality and purpose…how divine and sensible.
Beside her lay a pile of discarded clothing. In the backpack stashed deep within the
petrified tree’s hollow truck, another set awaited her return. Ten days until she reappeared in her chosen
form. Another slice of time waiting and
watching, knowing her guardianship and care gained her more lives and
rebirths. Not all guardians followed
theological dictates. Dictates that humans
and other species dreamt up and attempted to use to make logic out of their
limited view points of the universe, a universe that more than one creator
brought into being.
Rachel glanced down her legs. Two large tattoos began half up her calves,
continuing upward over her buttocks and hips.
Their dull red color mixed with pigments of yellow and gold that throbbed
as the sun began its ascent over the horizon.
Pain grabbed her deep within her gut and groin. Desire weaved its wicked slicing edge along
her sensitive nether lips until she tossed back her head and cried out. Her voice echoed off the surrounding peaks
greeting each other until silence regained its threshold.
As her gaze rose, her
mons and thatch of pubic hair came into view.
At the crown of the trimmed apex,
red pulsed along the hairs mixing with her darker auburn remnants. The huge of golden red spilled out on to her
thighs and pelvis gushing upwards ready to drown her in its wake. Rachel shuddered with each breath. Her nipples stood out, taut and hard like icicles,
yet the heat rolling off them would melt Antarctica and both polar caps. Transformation was upon her. Could she withstand the pain and change?
Emotions welled up threatening to overwhelm her. Another screech like the first and the early
morning denizens of the mountain would flee.
This place was hers to nurture and care for during the next ten days
while she waited. Waited for her mate to
arise and ravish her as she would him until replete and sated, gorged with
renewed energy and purpose cooling began.
Raising her arms, Rachel felt the first beams of scalding
heat ripple up them. The first full beam
of sunshine stroked along them reaching all parts of her. Her eyes locked on the still dim orb rising in
front of her. Human vocals faded as her
birth tongue called out. Slowly, she
began turning and vocalizing. Her song
of death became a song of life and rejoicing.
Beams of warmth radiated over her igniting a hunger so strong she almost
forgot the ritual needed to ensure she morphed accurately. Two more rounds and….
A loud screeched rocked the mountain peaks. Echoes roared off the rocks and dirt rushing
down until they sounded like an early morning thunderstorm to the small towns
and homes dotting the valley below. High
above them, a bright flash appeared as the sun fully rose over the horizon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Happy Weekend Gang!!
Wow Rachel is turning out to be more than anyone expected. Most of all Gil and the citizens of Talbot's Peak. My muse Pris indicates there is more to Rachel's story to come. Her rebirth day story isn't complete yet. Stay turned for another episode next week.
August ends today. Fall and cooler weather arrive soon. Enjoy the waning days of summer. As you do, remember to share a good book or two with your spice and loves, I will be!
Smiles,
Solara
4 comments:
Yeah, I'd say Rachel's been hiding a few things. Love the imagery!
"yet the heat rolling off them would melt Antarctica and both polar caps."
Exactly, the imagery is fabtastic, Solara. I'm lovin' Rachel.
Thanks Pat and Savanna! I loved writing this piece this morning. I was there on that mountain top standing next to Rachel experiencing her change.
Solara, the authenticity comes through magnificently... that's how I try to write, experiencing everything with my heroines and heroes... sometimes, my villains.
Although, I don't know how many readers like that style of writing.
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