An Immortal Slut's Journal

I slipped down into the bracing embrace of the pool, and let the cool, clear water seep into every pore. A piercing grasp of cold took hold of my heart almost immediately, setting it leaping with earnest, cleansing adrenaline. All the dust and sweat and dried-on fluids of the last few days began to just drift away. While the silver-spun moonlight and gentle, babbling silence of this midnight bathing soothed what parts of my soul still smouldered.

It had been a strenuous few days, my Darlings. Filled with passion and pleasure and endless gasping collisions of physicality. For two nights and a day I had left myself at the mercy of 7 or 8 young men and their churning virility. They had looked so delightfully surprised when a full-grown woman just a little older than themselves had walked into the firelight of their drunken revels. When I proceeded to down a quart of their whiskey, turn their teasing flirtations back at them and simply take claim of that which swelled in each of their trousers without a hint of doubt or shame… I had their hearts, eyes and minds locked to my every curve with inescapable, hungering vice. Each and every one had his share of each of my holes time and time again: first while the heat of their firepit still baked one side of our bucking forms and on until the grey light of dawn saw those last embers faded. I smeared their backs and chests with the ash of it as they squeezed out yet another groaning climax into my overflowing womanhood.

Only then began the true, gruelling test of their sordid lusts and base humanity. As my long, brown hair became matted and tangled and my slim body ever more smeared and stained. We spent that day as animals, true. Rutting in the heat of the sun and across the dusty, rock strewn ground. They took staggered, tired-out turns. Determined to face the challenge of not stopping until I was satiated… knowing little of what that aim might take from them. They joked and boasted and showed off to each other as all such groups of newly-fledged men do. Suddenly I was transported back to when I might have entertained oh-so similar a score of youths, on that very patch of hillside… when the great-great-grandfathers of the trees surrounding might yet have been seedlings. Bronze spears and shields laid aside glinting as linen tunics were likewise discarded. Battles yet to be fought and won in honour of their fathers on every tongue, as I took current test of their strength and stamina. Perhaps it was simpler, back then… A woman following in the wake of those proudest marches, offering herself to those who might never again see their mothers. I was certainly not the only one… though my refusal to accept any gift of coin and habit of forgetting to reacquire clothing drew a few raised eyebrows, even then.

Clothes… I had tried to recover what scraps I could find as I tip-toed out between the snoring forms. But little enough had survived even to wrap around into a make-shift skirt and top. I sigh, blessed ones… at the destructive forces wrought when one indicates that young men can be as rough as they might like. The body exalts… but the fabric laments. It would seem my walk on from here would be an exposed one.

Slipping beneath the surface one last time… I looked up at the night’s gleaming jewels through a rippling window. The moon’s sad face gleamed back at me as kindly as it always had… unchanged by all the centuries we had spent winking at each other. We were two weary old souls who had seen far too much pass between us, after all. Storms and smoke and screaming metal chariots had come and gone, changing the world so utterly and not at all. Yet still we both just journeyed onwards… keeping to the duties laid before us. Once, a pool like this would certainly have contained some spirit of one kind or another… some local folklore of a girl that drowned or gazed upon her own beauty too long. Just as those dark clouds on the horizon would certainly have held the potential lascivious passions of a god without shame. Now… only I remained. My hair drifting around me like some dragging, drifting weed as my lungs filled with water and… cared so very little.

After a few minutes more unsuccessful drowning, I dragged myself back to the shoreline. Letting the water sluice off and out of me, taking with it any last remaining seed and filth that might have clung on. The rest would drip dry as I walked, on up the path over the mountain. Away from those boys who now knew my face… yet might tomorrow wonder if my presence among them had all just been some drunken dream. In years to come, when they had found wives and jobs and houses, perhaps they would meet up and reminisce, in hushed and doubting voices: about the one mysterious woman who had taken all of them at once, then crept away without a word. That was enough for me, kind listeners. That was forever enough…