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Servant of Venus (butterfly0408/Lucid_M)

butterfly0408

butterfly0408

Singularity
Joined
Jan 9, 2009
Location
An Alternate Universe
She stood in front of the house, looking up at it's grand size. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. This was where he was. She needed him to complete her training. She needed him simply to have him. He had been her best friend before she entered the service of Venus and at a time like this, she needed her friend.

Going to the door, she rang the bell and waited. Anticipation filled her as she head footsteps from within come towards the door, the door knob rattled slightly as it was turned, and the creak of the door as it opened.

She recognized him at once. Sure it had been 10 years since they had last seen one another and sure they had both changed, but her heart thought of him every day since the day she left. She would know him even if he had lost all his hair and gained 400 pounds. She was glad he hadn't, but she still would have known him like that.

"Hello Andrew," she said with a smile upon her face. The woman that stood before him was in a word, goddess. Or at least close to it. She was crafted into the image of her mother Venus. Her golden hair was long. Well down her back nearly to her butt. Her skin looked soft to the touch and without a flaw anywhere in sight. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle as she beamed at him. Her lips were pink and so very kissable. She just stood there, smiling at him, waiting.
 
Andrew Penn was not a very complex or hard to please man. He held no social life at all, and had broken off all connection with his pompous family after the death of his grandfather. His days were spent writing and listening to Damien Rice's soft, comforting music every once in awhile. During weekend nights the songs were played throughout the mansion-wide speaker system while its charred wood walls were filled with the smell of incense. He had been currently eating breakfast, having just finished the novelization of Call of Duty 4. Andrew had not enjoyed the game very much, but the plot and characters gave him plenty of material, and it was quite thrilling to write.

Andrew was rising to put away the bowl and prepare to enjoy a bit of his cello when the doorbell rang. The low dings resounding throughout the aged mansion. He frowned, blinking. Perhaps the books he ordered had arrived? Sometimes those mailmen were kind enough to ring the doorbell instead of simply leaving the box on the curb. Fixing his messy black hair, he made sure his face was presentable before going to the door. Long, chiseled features were seldom admired, along with pale skin and shocking glacier eyes. Andrew kept fit and light, so as that he could be comfortable in his own skin. He had a swimmer's body, the result of enjoying the infinity pool in the backyard at least five times a week.

Opening the door in a shirt and boxers, Andrew was taken aback by the sight of the woman. Memories flooded him of the several summers spent together, enjoying those Batman films and enjoying the city of New Orleans years before it had been devastated so tragically. She had been a short, frizzy haired, clumsy girl with audacity and boyish charm. She had found the destruction of the Berlin wall tragic, saddened by all that graffiti and art so carelessly ignored. But yet now she stood here, with her loose, silken hair, even softer skin, radiant glow and sheer beauty. She was a prime example of feminine fairness, and how such classic sensuality could be reborn and made fresh again.
"You..." Andrew said breathlessly.
 
"Me..." she said just as breathless. She thought she would have herself under control. The last years had been spent training to keep herself cool and confident, but one moment with Andrew once again and she was weak at the knees. He had become a charming and handsome man, just like she imagined he would grow to be.

Nervous now, she bit her lip, a bad habit she had when she was younger and still had to this day. Did he even remember her? He seemed to. And even if he did, she wondered if he would help her. "Well, it certainly has been awhile, hasn't it?" she left the question floating in the air between them a moment before she cleared her throat and corrected her nervous habit, puckering her lips a moment before they returned to their highly kissable resting place, "I don't even know if you remember me."
 
"Rachel, of course I remember you..." Andrew swallowed loudly, apparently unable to even show excitement, only sheer shock. He hadn't expected this at all. In fact, he hadn't even thought of Rachel in years! A sudden, small fear overtook him. His peaceful little world was about to change, and his psyche didn't like that. Pushing away the emotions as best he could, he stepped aside, "Please, come in." He straightened his shirt out rather futily, closing the door behind Rachel.

The mansion was well furnished, despite having only one resident. Victorian chairs littered the entrance area, the main attraction being the huge chandelier and the grand staircase that led into the second floor. Andrew headed through one of the hallways to the right, coming to a living area. A high definition television set was on a long table pushed up against the tall windows. An X-box 360 with a single game resting against it was beside the set. Andrew felt slightly embarrassed by its presence, afraid that she would get the wrong idea of him.
"Take a seat, please. We must speak before I burst." Andrew didn't finish the sentence entirely, biting his lip, a habit he had acquired from her. He sat down on one of the victorian couches, wishing the mug on the coffee table still held some green tea inside of it. But alas, it was empty.
 
She was glad he remembered her. A great fear was she could come all the way here only to have him look her up and down and say 'I have no idea who you are.' But that nightmare had not come true. He remembered and that only made her more than positive he would help her in her task.

Looking around the room as she took the seat offered, she took in a deep breath and let it out. First thing was first, "I'm glad you remember me, but I no longer go by the name of Rachel, that is what I should tell you first and foremost. It is Eden now. That is the name I was given when I entered-" she stopped and laughed slightly, "A lot has happened in 20 years Andrew..."
 
"I can see that..." In a way, Andrew was afraid of this woman. Rachel had been an example of tomboyish comfort. The camaraderie of a man along with the loyalty of a woman in a marvelous package. Regardless, he reminded himself not to base his opinions on mere looks and mannerisms, and rather wait until he got to know Eden better. Sitting across from her, he placed his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together, "Tell me everything." He leaned forwards, opening a wooden box to reveal several thin cigars and a torch lighter. Clipping the end off, he prepared to light it.
"You don't mind, do you?"
 
"Not at all," she said as she gestured for him to lit his cigar. She had an almost regal air about her as she sat across from him. What really could change a person so much? He was about to find out.

"I know what I am about to tell you is going to seem... well... unreal. I thought it was too when I was told about it for the first time, but I have lived it and it is real. Ten years ago, my mother told me that I was destined for something more than a normal life. The women of my family have long been what are called 'servants of Venus.' I can not tell you about about it but I can tell you some. It's and order run fully by woman that follow the practices of... love and... sex... said to have been given to the order by the Roman Goddess Venus herself. It is said that the woman of the order are actual descendants of Venus. For centuries, upon a descendant's 16th year, her training in the order beings. I have just completed my training in the ways of the order and now it is time for my trial. That is why I have come to you."

She had a bit of a blush across her face, "It is said that we are to face the trial with the person dearest to us. You were my best friend Andrew and you still are. I must face the trials of three days of pleasure. The first way shall be for the pleasure of you. The second shall be for the pleasure of me. And the third the pleasure of us both in the join of our bodies." She bit her lip again. She must sound crazy.
 
Andrew had leaned back against the couch slightly as he lit the cigar, taking long drags of it. He had the cigar every third Wednesday of the month, as it was the third Wednesday of July when he was first published, and as such he decided to celebrate it monthly. He sighed softly as she began her tale, scratching his chin and seeming lost in his own head. The man ran a hand through his hair, "Now, that is an idea for a novel." He pointed to her, suddenly inspired. His body showed exuberance, but his expression and voice held the usual tired coolness that Andrew always exhibited.
"So... Basically you show up, and ask me to have sex with you. Just like that. I don't want to sound mean, and I don't mean anything by it. But what would you have done had I been married? Or at least taken?" He took a long drag of the cigar.
 
His almost playful reply was lost on her. Sarcasm was something she had not heard in 10 years. She almost forgot what it was. "No! You cannot reveal any of the orders secrets to the outside world! What I have told you can never leave this house! And I am not asking you to have sex with me. Well, I am, but I'm asking you to consider it. That's all. If you had been married, I never would have come here. I never would have left the temple. I would have just not faced the trials and remained there forever. But my mother did my research for me. She told me you were not married and was fairly certain you were no involved with someone. Unless..." she stopped and went a bit pale, "You are, aren't you?" She was suddenly completely and totally embarrassed. Rising quickly, she was pale yet flushed at the same time, "I'm sorry. If I had known I- I'm sorry! I took a chance and- I'll go!" She started to head for the door. She never would have come if she really knew. It had been a gamble and she lost. It was time to return to the temple with her failure and face the consequence.
 
"I never did like your mum... She looked like something out of the Stepford Wives." Andrew shuddered. Though, he had kept the comment quiet enough so that only he could hear it. He left the cigar in his mouth as he rushed over and gently grabbed her arm, "Calm down, Rac-" He pursed his lips and shook slightly as he corrected himself, "Eden. I'm not taken, and probably never will be. You may go through the trials, but first I need to know whether or not I can love this changed you. I do not pleasure another upon a whim." He blew the smoke away from her, looking into her surprisingly deep eyes. They looked almost unnatural. As if he could just stick his arm in and end up in another world entirely. He kept his attention focused on Eden, rather than these little hypnotic details.
 
And now she was embarrassed for making herself look like such a fool in front of him. She had not actually seen a man in these past 10 years. Oh she knew very well how to please one, but have never actually had the experience with one. She looked at him a moment and realized... he had been the last man she saw and now he was the first after so long. "My mother meant well, she only wanted me to complete the trials. If I don't..." she hesitated a moment, biting her lip once more before sighing and continuing on, "if I don't I will have to return to the temple and never set foot outside it's walls again. I will become a servant within for the things I have learned may only be spread into the world by those who take the trials. If I didn't have you, I would be forever confined there. That was why my mother looked up the information on you." She suddenly realised it sounded like she was trying to guilt him into it. She suddenly started to shake her head, "I'm not trying to sound like I'm sure I do! I mean, I, you can still say no. Take your time. If you don't think you can do it I will understand. I'm not..." she shut her lips tight then. She was making this worse and worse ever moment.
 
"You have no other place to go, apparently..." Andrew sighed and walked back towards the center of the living area, his eyes on her reflection in the dark TV set. He snuffed out the cigar, tired of the wet, horrid flavor and strange texture. Andrew's shoulders tensed slightly as he continued speaking, "You will stay here, until you can enamor me properly. We will go on dates, stay in and go through all the hoops needed for me to properly judge your character." His posture and tone was suddenly very authoritative, with a little hint of vengeance. Though, he relaxed as soon as he finished speaking and returned to his gentle, strange self.
 
Eden looked at him, nodding her head slightly with each requirement for them on this check list. "Thank you and I will do as you wish. Anything you like." She bit her lip, not telling him that she only have one month to return to the temple. She has already felt like she was pressuring him enough or at least she felt that HE felt he was being pressured. To add to that that she had limited time would only make it worse still. And if in a month she had not enamored him... well then... it you be back to the temple for her. Even if that is how it ended, she would never hold it against him. She loved him. "Where do we even begin?"
 
"We will return to the old factory. Hopefully, Katrina didn't destroy that too." He said as he emptied the ashtray in an old fashioned trash bin in the corner before wiping it off with a handkerchief and setting it back down on the coffee table. Andrew and Rachel had spent many hours in an abandoned car factory, tinkering about with the rusted machinery, spray painting on the walls and basically having a grand old time. It was Rachel's idea. She enjoyed the desolate lighting, and the illusion it gave them that this place was theirs and belonged to no one else.
"If you would give me a minute to change." Andrew said, gesturing towards the seat once more. He disappeared into the halls, taking about ten minutes and later returning in a pair of faded jeans and a Run DMC t-shirt. The Writer had not cared enough to modernize his wardrobe or even dress his own age.
 
"Sure," was all Eden said as she took the seat once more. Sitting in silence as she awaited his return, her eyes glanced about the room as her head filled with thoughts. Memories. The old factory, wow. It had been 10 years since she thought of that place. She had been a totally different person then, wearing baggy clothing. A tomboy through and through. And now she sat there in her tight fitting low rider blue jeans and black corset top, the total opposite picture of what she once was. From tomboy to sex goddess. Or at least sex goddess in training still. That was more like it. She couldn't really picture herself holding a paint can drawing her art on the walls again. Did she even have any art left in her or had it all been replaced by her training?

As he re-entered the room, she stood again, a smile crossing her face, "You still have that shirt? Honestly? Oh it can't been the same one." She crossed towards him and saw up close all the wear in tear, "Then again, perhaps it is." She laughed slightly.
 
"Bring the Noise." Andrew quipped before walking past her, heading to the front door and making sure Eden was following before exiting the manor. He closed and locked the double doors behind them before heading to a small Toyota Yaris, painted a sleek shade of black. Andrew stood in front of it for several seconds, debating before sliding his keys back into his pocket and heading past the gates of the estate, onto the main road on foot.
"You painted a mural, in fact, you spent a year painting it. We never did get to finish that." He said, heading for the mini-mall about a fifteen minute walk away.
 
"Is it still there?" she asked as she casually walked beside him, her thumbs laced through the empty belt loops rather than slipping into her pockets. "I remember working so hard on that and I was so disappointed when my mother told me I had to leave for Roman. I wanted to finish it just to be able to say I actually did something with my life." She sighed, "But art apparently was not my destiny. This was. I only wish my mother would have told me about my destiny before I fell in love with other things."
 
"Could you not persue art at the temple?" Andrew asked as he walked into the flourescent lighted paint boutique in the mall. He grabbed a few cans of paint and brushes, loading them into a small box and starting to carry them towards the old plant. Andrew headed down the street for another twenty minute walk, his arms aching by the time they got to the cracked parking lot. He carried it up to the large service entrance before taking a short break and starting to pick out the cans.
"The mural should be at the far end, in the offices." He reminded. A certain memory sprang into his mind. Andrew had been unable to sleep on a long Thursday and headed to the factory in hopes of seeing the moonlight filter in through the tattered roof. He had instead found Rachel painting her mural, equipped with a damaged flood light and a small stereo that had been playing Anthrax at a low volume.
 
She had a sad smile on her face as she watched him buy the paints. Did he want her to finish it? She was a totally different person now. She could not even remember what her mural looked like the last time she had worked on it. How could she finish it when she didn't know if she was inspired any longer. But she did not say anything. She'd face that fear when it came to her. "Art, yes. But a different kind of art then what I use to do. The temple of Venus is all about the art of love and sex. The teachings of the practices passed down for generations spanning thousands of years. It is so highly details that it's not just an action anymore but art. Living, breathing, moving, sensual art." She sounded very passionate about her new art.
 
Andrew, however, did not sound so enthralled. He walked towards the offices with the box, past the dusty, decaying assembly line and parts left to rot. An old, brown hat was tossed carelessly on the floor, the words Camel Cigarettes printed across the front of it. Lights flowed in through the grated windows near the roof, illuminating the dust that flowed in the air. It cast fractured shadows down on the grimy floor, bathing everything in a brownish golden light.
Ducking through the shattered glass door, he headed past a series of small desks and dusty typewriters. The corner offices used to have wooden walls, that had been obliterated when Andrew got hold of a mallet and the new Metallica tape. A flood light was still there, the rotting battery next to it. As was the old boom box, in a fashion that was only available in that era. The silver handle, the round, large speakers and the front loading cassette. Public Enemy was still within it, the tape moldy and damaged.

Andrew was hit in the gut by the slew of memories and emotions this place held. The former ghosts of love and comfort flooding through him. Yes, he was absolutely infatuated with Rachel but he cared not. His love branched to such an extent that he desired her happiness and pleasure above all else.
The mural was halfway completed, with its random, chaotic clash of styles. An accurate cityscape, a thoughtful, beanie-sporting man on the far left corner standing amongst a graffitti sky. It was childish, yet entertaining all the same. Andrew began to open one of the paint cans.
"But don't they let you write, act or read?" He said as he took a brush and began to lay the base coating, seeing as how the rest of the unused base had crinkled off.
 
Eden stood a few moments in awed silence, even after he asked his question. It took her a few moments just to take it all in. The building, the paint, the past. So many nights spent in this place, not realizing what her fate held in store for her. If she had known, oh how much more she would have cherished the time she had. If only she had been given a warning not to become so attached to her life before, this place. To him...

"I suppose I should explain more about it, shouldn't I?" She sad as she took up a paint brush and tried to find a feel for it in her grasp once again. Just playing with it's weight and the feel of the bristles at it's tip while she spoke and glanced about the space, occasionally glancing towards where he worked. "Think of it like a secret society. Completely inhabited by women said to have been descendants of the Goddess Venus. Indeed they showed me how to trace my family tree all the way back to accent Roman. The ten years spent within their hidden temple's wall is a right of passage for every one of us. It needs to be seen if we are worthy to care on the blood line of a Goddess or if our branch of the tree must end with us. My mother was deemed worthy by Venus. If she had not been, I never would have been born. And now it is my turn."
 
Andrew drew the base coating over the decayed, gray concrete. It was soon a pure shade of white again, glossy and wet. He stepped back, opening the other cans and pulling a small bottle of water out of his pocket before setting it down beside them. Andrew took a brush, continuing the graffiti sky he was usually responsible for. His old tools of the trade were spray paint and the like, but in recent years he had lost his touch with it and exchanged bottles for bristles. Andrew seemed at peace near the painting, content and nostalgic. There was a large hole in his heart for what could have been, but he ignored that.
"I became a writer, just as I said I would." He spoke, changing the subject.
 
"I'm glad," she said as she closed her eyes and tried to visualize what she wanted to do with the blank canvas in front of her. While he was always about the spray paint, she was more for brush. The control over what she produced was a comfort to her. She was always about details. Seeing an old piece of wood, she picked it up and immediately started to mix her colors together. "I'm happy for you. It was always what you wanted in life." Soon a mixed reddish color was on her brush and she started to paint on the wall before her. "You will have get me a copy of one of your books. I would love to read each and every one of them."
 
He gave a small smile at her words. Andrew was always entirely devoted as a lover, and it was a great comfort when his significant other was the same way. He concentrated on creating a graffiti like effect with the paints, doing so with moderate success. Rachel had taught him long ago how to manage the colors and all that jazz. Sighing softly, he stepped aside and decided to have Eden finish up her work before he mingled his own with her's. Andrew leaned towards the vintage boom box and opened the battery case, frowning at the discovery that the batteries had bursted and damaged the contacts.
"You wanted to be an actress, if I can remember correctly."
 
"I WANTED to be a lot of things," she said as the brush took on a mind of it's own in her hand. It seemed like her mind was making her draw all sorts of lines and patterns that were not really making sense. More abstract art then the detailed art she once drew. "I wanted to act, I wanted to sing, I wanted to paint, I wanted to take photos." With every passing addition to her list, her words became a little faster. "I wanted this, I wanted that. I wanted it all, but I got..." she paused a little as she looked at the paint on the wall. Her brush strokes were sharp and angry in style. The vision she just had was ruined in an instant. "I didn't get any of it."
 
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