Venus In Fur

And oh did the songs of Hathor's beauty and whence it was bestowed upon a cinnamon-tainted child, bourne the very flush of sand and dirt as the corrupt womb with which it crawled from. But alas what temptation is the fruit of sin; her allure was undeniable. Used to dominate over the others from the day she was born, calculated, graceful was the bronze Goddess as she graced the art with her regalia. Mile-long limbs, slender, carried her afloat upon the land of the new Kingdom she started to call home. Her visage alone boasts an immortality to which time holds no candle and her beautiful, acqualine features possessed a smirk that would force the Devil to crawl with inferiority. She will face God and walk backwards into Hell is she had to. But not today. Today she meant business.

It was the witching hour, not the perfect time for a meeting with the High Lord due to the fruitful litter that recently been brought into this cruel world but alas it shall not wait a minute longer. The moon beams were soft, silvery and emanated a divine aura of everlasting magic and hope around the forest. It coiled its glowing tendrils upon the witch, dipping her in a radiant, hypnotic glow. It showered down as sprinkles of allure and pearly hues, casting shadows that bathed in its intrinsic charm. But just as her pace lessened and she came to a halt outside the Kings den, in a trice, a cloud, grave and purposeful, moved stolidly with a gust of the invigorating breeze, and mercilessly concealed the moon, thus leaving the world austere, miserable and dark.