Death Deity Boyfriend: Erysicthon Part Two (complete)

I wake to the sound of tapping at my window. Rolling over, I see that Pest is beating their tiny fists on the glass. I grumble as I get up, opening the window, but blocking them from getting inside.

“What do you want, Pest?” I glower. 

Pest giggles. “Mother wanted me to tell you that you should be expecting her today, Father.” They say the word slowly and tauntingly to me. “So you best prepare for her arrival. She’ll be staying here late and until morning, or at least until she has what she wants from you.”

I go to swat at Pest, but they dodge me. They crawl up the wall around the highest arch of the window and hang down, dangling their skinny form off the curtain rod.

I swat at them, hitting them out the open window. “Be on your way, Pest. No one wants you here.”

Pest’s wings buzz as they float back up towards me. They stick their tongue out at me. “I will go,” they huff. “But I will be back later, Father. You can’t get rid of us so easily.”

I sneer, turning back into my bedroom as I slam the window shut on Pest.

I have my deal with Mother to uphold. Our deal would keep her snotty little fairies away from my dead. Yet, in the process, I have signed over a bit of myself to her. I am not certain why she would choose me, or what her end goal is, aside from making more of her vile creations. Surely there are others out there who are much more fitting than I to produce the essence needed to bring her creations to life. 

As I get dressed for the day, I spy myself in the mirror. My body is not what it once was. I had once been built for battle and war, thin and lithe, with solid muscle. I was made for speed and easy kills. In recent years, my body has undergone some changes. I am much more sedentary than I used to be, so I have put on some weight. The most work I get is from tending to the bodies of the deceased, so there is still muscle to me, but mainly in my back and arms, and perhaps in my legs. 

There are also the scars, symbols of my battles that I once loved with such fervor. Nowadays, I see them as ugly reminders of the horrible person I used to be. Violent, untamed, and with a lust to inflict pain and have it inflicted upon me.

One such scar has been giving me pause since I was reunited with Mother. A perfect ring, around my left nipple, the imprints of sharp teeth. She had given it to me one night when we made love in the cold grass. My passion had been so intense in that moment, I nearly lost consciousness. Mother had viciously brought the memory back to me. There were several scars she had left behind, some from her nails, others her teeth. There is one along my thigh from a whip. All of them were good memories once, but now, I do not know how to recollect them.

Surely, I am not the same as I was, but I cannot help but be aroused. Back when Mother and I first met, we were both young. Mother was beautiful. Her father was the king of a savage kingdom, and he had been starting wars and genocides to collect the bones of his enemies. He had a notion that life could come from bones, that there was something akin to the soul within the marrow. I suppose this is the secret that Mother finally figured out, only with teeth.

My former god-king had commanded my siblings and I to see if we could be of any use to this man. I was offered to kill profusely for him, and I spotted Mother watching me from behind her father’s throne. She was just as mad as he was, if not more, and I loved her instantly. She was my match in every sense of the word - vicious, unforgiving, and yet she loved me. I did not have to work to impress or hold her attention like I did the god-king. She simply held me, and that was enough.

I remember how her long hair was a curtain around us, my own personal beams of moonlight. It created a shelter for us, a place where we were safe to speak our minds without worry. When I was inside her, feeling her heat wrap around me, I didn’t have to be anyone or anything. I simply had to pleasure her, the only other creature in the world.

I remember licking wine from her breasts, and how her nipples felt against my tongue. She would spank me, rub the red welts, and then spank me again. Come morning, she would massage my entire body with oils and tend to the bruises as well as me. I thought, back then, it was all a game, just a way for her to keep me in the palm of her hands.

Mother - whatever her name is - truly loved me, I believe, but I think we were both too wild to be held by anybody or anything. Perhaps it was age that we needed, time between us, lives lived. Whatever has brought us back together, whatever fickle finger of fate, I am still uncertain. I want parts of Mother in my life again, and yet I do not want to recall those days in the past. I don’t want to find out if I am still that same grotesque man as I was. I had been Death then and am Death now, but I am now a form of Death I can live with.

Evening comes, and there is the knock on my door. As I open it, I see Mother standing there, waiting. She lets herself in and stands aside as I close the door again. She stands tall and regal, her body lithe like a willow. Her skin is pale and paper-thin, showing off cool blue veins. Her wide black eyes do not show any light, but they are like mirrors I can see myself within.

Mother’s hand lands on the top of my helmet with a thud. “Take off that silly helmet, Erysichthon. What are you trying to hide from me?” She rattles it back and forth before letting me go.

“Not from you, but the rest of the world.” I carefully remove the helmet and set it down. The black smoke comes out in thin wisps that coil and float around my neck. Mother steps forward, trailing her fingers around my neck. 

“You used to love having your ears played with. What torture that must be.” Her palm slips down my chest. “And you would bury your head between… well, many things,” she chuckles darkly. “But I suppose you’ve learned to use your hands much better.” She takes my hand and marvels. 

She sweeps her fingertips down my palm and along the creases. “The calluses have changed,” she whispers. “They’re more defined than a hand that swung an ax.”

I spread my palm out, then reach my other hand around, grabbing her hip and ass. “Things about you have changed as well.”

Mother’s lip curls up, showing her sharp teeth. “You must be smarter than that. When we last were together, I was still blossoming. I’m a mature being, my dear, and now I have a body that shows it.” She grinds her rear into my palm, then pulls away from me. “I suggest you appreciate it rather than critique it.”

“Where are you going?” I scoff.

Mother’s dark eyes look me over while a peculiar smile crosses her face. “I am curious as to what life you lead now, Erysichthon. You still have death all around you.” She holds out her hand as moths begin to swirl around her. “But you are not the catalyst anymore.”

I let my eyes roam down her body for a moment before I catch myself. I have been lingering on thoughts of our former passion and youthful drive. I had forgotten how much she loved to hear about my stories of conquest and destruction.

“I serve the people now,” I tell her. “I give them ease in their grief, and a place to mourn.” I motion towards the window. “Did you see the altar outside as you came in?”

“That pretty thing?” she asks. “I did. I was tempted to ring the bell, but I also wanted to surprise you,” she laughs.

“People lay their dead there.” As I tell her this, her smile vanishes. “I take them to my workroom downstairs, where I prepare them for burial. Then I find a place for them in the crypt that I constructed.”

“You really have changed,” she murmurs. “Valery is a simpering puppy as well.”

“We’re all tired, Mother,” I explain. “We were all kept to obey the god-king and fear what would happen if we didn’t. I let it control me and I killed because I did not want to face punishment. Without that fear…” I slice my hands through the air, “I crumbled.”

“Rebuilding is sometimes easier when there is nothing on the foundation. My father taught me that.” Mother continues to walk through the house until she comes to my bedroom.

“My, this is much cozier than I would have thought.” She sits down on the edge of the bed and smooths her hand over the quilt. “I expected furs and slashed pillows. Giant, jagged antlers and the trophies of victories.” She sneers and shakes her head. “This looks like the room of any old fool.”

“The days of antlers and furs is behind me. Now, I want a bed I can rest in, rather than fall unconscious upon.” As I look upon her, I do realize she is a bit out of place in my new world. The bed is not regal enough for her. She looks like a cat sitting in a bird’s nest.

Mother lays back on the bed, stretching her long arms out over her head. Her long leg splits through her dress, and she drags her foot up along her thigh. Her skin is pale, unearthly white, and I can see the sparse blue veins press against the surface.

“I can see why you would enjoy it.” She sits back up like she hadn’t been putting on a show before. “But don’t you think it is awfully small?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I am almost always alone. As long as the mattress fits me, what does it matter?”

“Well, not anymore.” She stands up from the mattress. “Now, get undressed and lay down.” Her voice is commanding, her body tensed for the pounce. 

I grumble. “Already?”

“It has been a while for you, I assume,” she sniffs. “So, I also assume that you may be a disappointment.” She looks me over with another sneer. “So, for tonight, we are going to work on building your stamina back up.”

“What are you talking about?” I step away from her as she takes a candle from the wall.

“There is a reason I want you, Erysichthon,” she murmurs in a gentle, cryptic voice. “Now, be a good boy for me. Take off your clothes, and lie down.”

I hate how I respond to her commanding tone. I take off my clothing, stripping naked and lay on the bed. I watch as Mother lights the candle and stands by my side. The first molten drip of wax makes me gasp, the second causes me to spasm, and by the third my tip is already dripping.

Mother chuckles to herself as the wax hits my body. The sting of the heat melting with the relief of it passing is a pleasure I’ve not felt in far too long. Soon, Mother’s long fingers pump over my shaft.

“My, my. You’re still the big boy I remember.” She lets me fall against my thigh again. “Now roll over for me.”

My chest and stomach are coated in splatters of dried wax that fleck from my skin as I roll onto my front. Mother moves closer and spills the hot wax down my back. Mother’s hand then massages at my rear, gently groping and squeezing.

“You never had this,” she remarks. “It was so hard back then.” She gives me a pop, and I force down the pleasured cry back into my throat. “Look how pliant and soft this is.” She digs her sharp fingers into my flesh. “If you’ve lost your head, I can live with this change.” She bends over and sinks her teeth into my ass.

“Yes!” I cry out, then quickly cover my neck with a pillow.

Mother’s tongue laps over the bite. “Did you get excited?” she purrs as she moves closer. She places the candle on the nightstand and presses kisses down my back. “Did you remember how good a little pain feels?” Her hands clap down hard on my ass and I snarl like a beast. My hips rut up, and I splay my legs so that my ass is high in the air.

“You horny shit,” Mother growls. She spanks me again, then rubs her palm into the stinging flesh. She spanks the other cheek, then slides her palm down to my thigh. “You glorious monster.”

“Harder, please,” I cry out. “I deserve it!”

Mother chuckles smugly, her face very much like the cat who ate the canary. She gropes my ass again, sinking her sharp talons into my skin. “You admit it then,” she moans. “How bad you are.” She slaps my ass again, harder than before. “How awful.” Another slap. “How wicked.”

I try to catch my breath, but I can’t. Everything feels too good, too right. I cry out, my thighs trembling and shaking. Another sound clap, and I can no longer hold myself back. My dick twitches, and pearls of white cascade onto my stomach and the bed. I pant and whimper, my thighs shaking like crazy as my cock continues to spasm.

“I told you,” Mother huffs. “This would only be the beginning for us back in the day.” She eases me down and rubs my ass. “And already you’ve gone and spent yourself.”

I’m starting to come to my senses and I am in a state of shock. I had no idea all of that was buried deep inside me, yet so close to the surface, it exploded from me so easily.

“Don’t push yourself, my dear. We do not have to rush these things.” Mother comes up onto the bed beside me. She takes my hand, guiding it between her thighs. I feel her wetness against my fingertips and I greedily press for more.

“I would have just sat on your face by now,” she groans loudly as my fingers sink inside her. “But you had to go and lose your head, so now-” she loses her breath for a moment, “I must make do with what you’ve barely got.”

I swirl my fingers inside her, feeling her heat wrap around me and pull her deeper. I rub my thumb to her clit and watch as her belly flutters. Mother grabs the nape of my neck, grasping tightly as I watch her lavender colored lips cling to my fingers.

When her channel starts to contract, becoming almost like a pulse, I long to have my tongue inside her. Instead, my fingers have to make do. She throws her head back, sighing and moaning until she forces my hand away.

“Enough, you idiot, enough.” She goes slack on the bed, letting her hair splay out as she breathes.

I lay there, resting my damp fingers on my chest. The world feels so quiet for a moment, as if everything has turned off.

“There,” Mother moans, “How was that?”

“I’m not sure,” I confess. “All these things I used to like before, it makes me feel like I did back then. It makes me hate it. I don’t want to return to those days.”

“You’re not,” Mother huffs. “You’re just a pain who enjoys getting spanked. Lots of men like that. It doesn’t make you bad. It doesn’t revert you to who you used to be.” She rolls onto her side. “It simply makes you a man who loves a little pain with his pleasure.”

“But...” I hesitate to begin. “Isn’t that who you want?”

Mother sits up, her long hair falling off her face. “You have no idea what I want.” She leans down, kissing my neck. “So don’t try and figure that out.”

The next few weeks continue on this way. Slowly, I am introduced into the ways of pleasure I used to enjoy. Mother coaxes these from me bit by bit, reminding me of things I had forgotten in my new life.

One evening as I lie in the cool sheets, my skin still vibrating from all of Mother’s affections, I see her standing by the window. I prop up on my elbows and turn to her.

“What are you doing?” I ask quietly.

“Nothing,” she sighs with a shake of her head. “Just nothing.” She walks back over to the bed. “Lay back down, you fool, or you’ll be sore come morning.”

“I won’t mind.” I sigh as she lays beside me.

“Oh, you will,” she huffs. “And I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

I chuckle. “Why worry about that? You’ll leave in the morning anyway.”

Mother looks up. “Are you hinting you would want me to stay?” She rises up from the bed and presses her palm against my chest. “Is there a reason I should linger tomorrow?”

I wrap my hand around her wrist. “Are you hinting that you want to stay?” I toss back at her. I sit up and place my fingers under her jaw. “Would you like to linger come morning?”

Mother smirks. “Call me by my name and perhaps I will.”

I tap my fingertips to her lips. “If you won’t confess, then I won’t confess.”

Mother kisses my fingertips. “You really don’t remember my name, do you?” She chuckles. She climbs into my lap, straddling my hips. “That is possibly the rudest thing you’ve done so far.” 

I scoop her closer and hold onto her hips. “You’ve not offered it.”

Mother wraps her arms around my neck between us. Her heat beckons to me and my shaft nudges gently against her lips. “I offered it long ago, but I suppose you weren’t listening then.” She ruts herself against me. “You sure you’re ready for this?” she taunts.

I move her forward, my tip slipping past her lips and inching inside her walls. “You’re the one who wants to stay come morning.”

Mother’s expression is pure torture. Her sweet lips hang open as she gasps. My cock splits her, finally, deep inside. I arch my hips, pushing up inside her.

“You’re the one who wishes to keep me,” she moans out loud. She grinds her hips, taking more of me. “That might be the most perverted thing of all.”

The smoke from my neck forms a cloud around us. “Talking about yourself?” I snarl as I bounce her in my lap.

Mother lets out a cry. Her warm walls cling around me, squeezing me tight yet remaining soft and pliable. “This damned cock,” she moans.

“Then take it out if you don’t want it,” I laugh.

“If I knew how to shut you up, I would!” Mother braces her palms against my shoulders and takes to riding me. She moves in my lap, taking me deep then rising from me. Her gasps and moans sound more enthralled than when my fingers are inside her.

“Keep moving like that,” I groan, keeping my hands locked on her hips. “You feel amazing, Demter.”

Mother squeezes around me, grinding me in place. Her fingers coil around my throat as her dark eyes gaze upon me. “What did you say?” 

“Demter,” I pant. “My Demter,” I push her down upon me and arch my hips. I thrust hard up into her, shaking her as her mouth hangs open wide. 

Demter buries her head in my shoulder, and her teeth sink into me. I cry out and, deep inside her, I release. I can hear her breathing, her voice raspy and deep as she regains herself. I slip my hands around her narrow waist as her hair falls from my shoulders.

“My father warned me men were nothing but trouble,” she moans. “But I grew addicted to one anyway.” She lifts her head, a smug smile painted on her lips. She pulls away from me and lays back on the bed. She lifts her legs and pulls her knees to her chest.

“What are you doing?” I lay down beside her as she does this strange exercise.

Demer sighs. “My father tried all his life to get his silly idea to become true,” she murmurs. “But there is no soul in the body once it has died.” She turns her head and looks at me. “You taught me this.” She looks me over, her hair spilling around her like liquid. “But there is life within the loins,” she says with a smirk. “I found a way to utilize that myself.” She slips her fingers between her thighs and cups her mound. “It’s but a tiny spark, but it is enough. Well, enough for teeth, that is.”

I scoff. “What a grotesque thing for you to collect, Demter.”

“My father constructed our home from bones, and yet collecting teeth is what is truly grotesque?” She sniffs. 

“And you used my seed to do this?” I roll over so I am facing her.

“I preferred yours,” she murmurs. “But there were others. Less worthy ones.” She glances back at me. “Jealous?”

“Why would I be now?” I reach over, petting my hand along her thigh and up her leg. “I cannot be jealous of lives I was not part of.”

Demter lowers her legs down but keeps her knees bent. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. None of them would be worth the ire.” She reaches out, stroking her hand along my chest. “They were merely fodder.”

I take hold of her hand and lay it around my neck. “And what am I?”

Demter’s grin curls at the tips. “Why ruin the surprise?” She moves close, laying her body on top of mine. Soon, we both fall asleep.

I wake in the morning, my body sore but my spirits high. I stretch out, reaching for Demter in bed, but I find nothing. I rise, and she is nowhere to be found. I sink back in bed, sighing softly to myself. Of course she is gone. Why wouldn’t she be?

A moment later, Demter appears in the doorway with a basket in her hand. “Get up, you lazy fool!” she scolds. “You finally ask me to stay the morning, and this is how you treat me?” She sets the basket down hard on the table. “Get up, you fool!”

“You’re still here,” I whisper in awe.

Demter rolls her eyes. “I beg of you, do not be like that.” She then motions to the basket. “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

I rise from bed and approach her. “Found something?”

She replies with a shrug.

In the basket, there is something wrapped up. As I pull away the fabric, dark hair spills out, and I realize it’s a head.

“What did you do?” I gape at her.

“Look at it first!” Demter scolds.

I turn the head around, and see a face I have not seen in ages. “It’s me,” I whisper.

The hair is long, with streaks of white along the temples. The cheeks and eyes are sunken, but the lashes and brows come out at sharp angles. The jaw is long and pointed, and the nose is steeply hooked and bent from being broken so many times.

“Your head,” Demter replies.

I turn to her. “Where did you get this?”

Demter takes my head into her palms. “I have my ways. Amorette is a friend, and Valery is firmly planted under her hill.” She sets my head upon my shoulders, and as she pulls her hands away, the head falls off. It plops to the ground, rolling underneath the table.

Demter gapes, looking more annoyed than horrified by what just happened.

“I think it needs to be sewn back on.” I cup my hands around my neck. “You can’t just reattach something that has been severed by setting the two parts together, you know?”

Demter picks my head back up off the ground and dusts my hair off. “Sew it? Like actually sew it?” She shakes her head. “I’m better at ripping things.”

“It doesn’t need to be much,” I reply. “Just a few stitches will be fine.”

We find a needle and thread, and Demter has me sit down in the kitchen. The needle stings as it goes through my skin, but Demter’s gentle touch helps to soothe the ache. After a while, the needle returns to where it began. Black smoke shoots out from the stitches, and a searing light moves along the seam, sealing my neck back to my head.

I hiss, touching my neck, then slowly look towards Demter. She looks back at me, cocking her brow and tucking her hair behind her ear.

I look up at her, expecting some sort of reaction. My tongue tastes sour and dry. My throat is parched beyond belief. As I touch my face, my lips twitch. 

“I think I preferred you headless.” Demter comes up to me. She brushes her hands along my cheek then dips her head down to give me a kiss.

I put my hands around her waist, pulling her close to me as the kiss deepens. Demter slaps my cheek.

“Ow!” I snap as I stare up at her. “What was that-” She slaps me again.

“You forgot my name?” She scoffs. “Not only that, you vanished!” She slaps me again then kisses me. “Don’t do it again!”

“I won’t,” I rub my sore cheek then grin. “I can’t believe I missed that.”

Demter smirks at me. “Well, how does it feel to be back in one piece?”

I sigh, letting my shoulders slouch. “A little heavy.”

“You’ll get used to it again,” Demter chuckles. “All of us have.”

I eventually do, just as she says. I grow used to the way the moths come and slumber in my hair, leaving their dust behind. I grow used to my reflection, after having not seen it in all these years. I continue with my work, as well as my visits with Demter. I also give teeth to Pest, Pill, and Creep, who have become constant fixtures in my life.

Despite being Death, I have somehow assisted in providing to life. The fairies are in awe of what is happening with Demter, floating around her even when she comes for our visits. They’re protective of their future sibling, even as they grow in the womb.

“When the little one comes,” I ask her one day, “will they be like that?” I say, pointing to Pill, Pest, and Creep.

The fairies hiss at me.

Demter shakes her head. “Oh no, they are made a very different way.” She lays her hand over her belly. “This one, I suspect, will be a whole new creature altogether. A little bit of you, and much more of me.”

I place my palm over hers and, from within, I feel the baby kick. “Just you is bad enough,” I tease, kissing her cheek.

Demter chuckles. “You must promise me not to get jealous now,” she winks. “For your bottom will not be the only one getting spanked anymore.”

I scoff at her. “This little one will receive no such punishment,” I growl at her. “They are going to know nothing except tender touches.”

“You certainly are a pushover,” Demter sneers and pushes me. “Of course, I fully plan on turning this one into a mighty terror. Reminiscent of my father, perhaps a stroke or two of you as well. I never intended to have a peaceful child,” she laughs.

“Ah,” I rub my chin. “So that is what you wanted all this time?” I grin up at her. “You wanted my essence, but not for what you were leading me to believe.”

Demter shrugs. “Who knows what I want?” She presses her fingertip to her lips. “But an heir is always needed. I just wanted to make sure I got the right balance for the heir I desired.”

When the baby does arrive, she is born with marbled skin and eyes that look like they are filled with stars. I am happy for a little girl, and when I hold her, I have never known a peace like this before. 

“Do you feel guilty?” Demter asks me one day as the baby feeds from her breast.

“Guilty?” I ask.

Demter nods, stroking the top of the baby’s head. “That you have made a whole new life when you have taken down so many.” She glances up at me. “Because you shouldn’t.”

“I wasn’t,” I murmur. “I’m happy.” I sit down beside her, and watch as the baby kneads at her teat. “It never occured to me to feel guilt about her.”

“Which reminds me,” Demter sighs. “We really should name her something. I can’t be calling her baby sounds forever.”

I think for a moment. “Thana,” I murmur. “After your father.”

Demter chuckles. “A child of teeth and death.” She turns and looks at me, her expression soft and her eyes shining. “I think it suits.”