#Ishtar devotion

[theglamourempress]

e-offering to Ishtar #002

[thrashkink-coven]

I love the Aphrodite/Aphroditos Ishtar/Inanna Attar/Astarte Venus godhood being considered the origin of queerness, all queerness, so much because it makes so much sense.

I love Venus being like “Lesbians? me. Homosexuals? also me. Non binary, gender flux? male, female, intersex? yes that’s me. Sapphic love? also me. Homoeroticism? me. Trans femmes? my people. Trans mascs? also my people. Drag? yes I invented it. Cross dressing? That’s my name. Girly boy? You bet. Butches? yup. Lesbian men? Those are mine. Gay girls? Bearded ladies? Strong men? Bears? Pigs? Otters? Kittens? Man womanish gender freaks? Me. Yes that is my handy work, I’m so glad you noticed 🥰”

because hetero- cis normative society tries to convince us there must be hard lines between all these things. You’re either this or that and they can’t be the same. There’s no in between. Pick one. But Venus says “it’s all me, it’s all divine, and all of these things have so much more in common than they have in different. I created them all to take care of each other. The one thing that unites them unanimously is love.”

[thescarlettbitch]

Inanna / Ishtar masterpost

Inanna / Ishtar is the deity that I am devoted to, and there is a lot of misinformation out there about her, so this is a masterpost about her and her mythology, which does involve sex and rape, and revenge. Read with care.

Edit: I forgot certain points I wanted to add, so instead of editing and adding them in as an after thought, find them here :)

Lineage

Sources disagree on who her parents are. Some say Enki or Nanna, both male presenting, but most often she is depicted as the granddaughter of Enlil, and the niece of Enki. Her mother, as stated in Inanna Prefers The Farmer, is Ningal, as it is the only story that discusses her mother. Perhaps she is the daughter of Enki, Nanna, and Ningal. Regardless of who her parents are, she is the twin sister of Utu, and the sister of Ereshkigal. In the story of Gilgamesh and a few others, she is also portrayed as Gilgamesh's sister. She is married to Dumuzid.

Myths

Inanna and the Huluppu Tree: "A young woman who walked in fear of no man, and would not be owned, Plucked the tree from the river and spoke: “I shall bring this tree to Uruk. I shall plant this tree in my holy garden.”"

Enki, God of wisdom, planted a tree by the Euphrates at the beginning of time. Eventually, the tree was taken by the Euphrates. Inanna came, picked the tree, and decided she would nurture it so she could carve her throne and bed from it. Many years passed, and a serpent who couldn't be charmed made it's home in the tree. Then the Anzu-bird raised his family in the tree. And the dark maid Lilith made her home in the trunk. No matter how much Inanna wept, the creatures would not leave the tree. Inanna called to her brother, Utu, God of the sun, for help. He refused. She went to her brother, the great hero Gilgamesh, and he helped. He struck the serpent who couldn't be charmed and the birds flew away and Lilith fled to the wild uninhabited places. From the trunk, he carved her throne and her bed. From the roots, Inanna fashioned a pukku for her brother, and from the crown a mikku for Gilgamesh.

Inanna Prefers The Farmer: "No, brother!

The man of my heart works the hoe.

The farmer! He is the man of my heart!

He gathers the grain into great heaps.

He brings the grain regularly into my storehouses."

Inanna asks her brother, Utu, who she will marry. He tells her to marry Dumuzi, the shepherd. She responds that her heart is with the farmer Enkimdu. Utu tells her no, Dumuzi is the better choice, but she says no, Enkimdu is. Dumuzi and Enkimdu fight over this, but eventually Inanna is swayed and marries Dumuzi, in a rather erotic scene.

Inanna's Descent: "Then Erishkigal fastened on Inanna the eye of death.

She spoke against her the word of wrath.

She uttered against her the cry of guilt.

She struck her.

Inanna was turned into a corpse,

A piece of rotting meat,

And was hung from a hook on the wall."

Inanna goes to the underworld for her sister Ereshkigal's husband's funeral, having been the cause of his death. Inanna tells her priestess Ninshubur what to do should she not return. Dress in a single cloth like a begger, go to the temple of Enlil and beg for his help. If he does not help, go to Nanna. If he does not help, go to Enki. Inanna arrives at the gates, and as she passes through each of the seven gates, a garment is removed until she stands naked. The Anunna pass judgement, and Ereshkigal turns Inanna into a rotting corpse with the Eye of Death, and hangs her on a hook on the wall. On the third day, Ninshubur follows instruction. She dresses in a single cloth like a begger and goes to Enlil. Enlil denies. She goes to Nanna. Nanna denies. She goes to Enki. Enki creates the Kurgarra and the Galatur, neither male nor female, and gives them each the food of life and water of life. He tells them how to get on Ereshkigal's good side and to take the corpse from the wall and give it the food and water. They do, and Inanna rises, but the Annuna prohibit her from leaving. She must put someone else in her place. The Galla, demons from Ereshkigal, try to take Ninshubur, Shara, and Lulal, but Inanna spares them, as they mourned her. Then they find Dumuzi, dressed beautifully, with women around him. Inanna was betrayed, her own husband did not mourn her. The Galla take him away. Eventually, Inanna misses him, and sets a deal. For half of the year, Dumuzi will be on the wall in the underworld. For the other half, his sister.

Inanna and the God of Wisdom: "“In the name of my power! In the name of my holy shrine! Let the me you have taken with you remain in the holy shrine of your city. Let the high priest spend his days at the holy shrine in song. Let the citizens of your city prosper, Let the children of Uruk rejoice!”"

Inanna goes to Enki, and Enki treats her with butter cake and water and beer, lots of beer. Enki, while intoxicated, gives Inanna the Meh, the various humanities. She takes them and flees with Ninshubur. Enki, now sober, sends his servants to get the Meh back. Ninshubur protects the Meh for Inanna. They go back and forth six times, until Inanna gives the gifts to her people, and Enki resigns himself.

Inanna and Utu: "She makes perfect the great divine powers, she holds a shepherd's crook, and she is their magnificent pre-eminent one."

Inanna is given reign over fertility and sex, but she knows nothing about that subject. Utu and her go to the underworld and Inanna eats the fruit from the tree of knowledge, gaining that information.

Inanna and Su-Kale-Tuda: "He recognised a solitary god by her appearance. He saw someone who fully possesses the divine powers. He was looking at someone whose destiny was decided by the gods."

Inanna had had a long journey, so she rests on earth beneath the shade of a tree in a garden. The farmer Su-Kale-Tuda sees her sleeping and rapes her, then flees to his father. Inanna wakes up, seeing what had been do to her, and vows to find the man who did this. Su-Kale-Tuda confesses to his father, who tells him to hide. Inanna turns the water of the realm to blood, she sits on a storm cloud and drowns the world, then sends a dust storm, then stopped trade entirely within the world. Unable to find him she cries to her father, Enki, demanding his help. Enki turns her to a rainbow so that she stretched across the sky, and saw everything. Su-Kale-Tuda still tried to hide, but he could not hide from her any longer. She found him, and her first words are lost to time (some words translated to "How ......? ...... dog ......! ...... ass ......! ...... pig ......!") Su-Kale-Tuda tried to defend himself but Inanna told him "You will die, but the world will remember your name. Rapist."

Symbols:

Lions - she is often depicted with lions harnessed, to symbolize her power over the king of beasts

Roses - roses are symbols of beauty and sex, and their thorns represent the war side of her. At one point, the rose/rosette eclipsed the eight pointed star as her main symbol

Doves - another symbol of beauty and sex, in one of her temples was a mural of a dove emerging from a large palm tree, leading many to believe she was able to take the form of a dove.

Lapis Lazuli - the only precious stone I have seen be named as something she wears, specifically referenced in The Descent Of Inanna

Eight pointed star - the symbolic meaning is lost to time, but it shows up frequently in her depictions

Hook shaped twist of reeds - a symbol of fertility, and was her cuneiform ideogram

The planet Venus - many hymns credit her as being the personification of the planet

Carnelian - one of her epithets means "precious carnelian"

Thank you for reading, and I hope to make a similar masterpost detailing Mesopotamian mythology as a whole.

Edit: I did, you can find it here.

[seafoamaphrodite]

Inanna

Inanna is the Mesopotamian goddess of fertility, love, power, and sensuality.

Inanna’s worship can be traced back to Sumer as early as 4000 BC

traditional worship to this deity included sacred prostitution, sexual rites, and an emphasis on the arts

often know as Ishtar (by the Assyrians) or Astarte (by the Phoenicians)

Inanna is often seen as the origin of Aphrodite’s cults in Cyprus and Cythera. the goddess also shares similarities with Isis, the Egyptian goddess of magic and femininity

Associations

star of Inanna (also known as the star of Ishtar or the eight-pointed star)

lions

roses

doves

weapons (particularly whips, reeds, and hooks)

ps… this is my first time researching Inanna-Ishtar and im eager to learn! let me know if i got anything wrong or if there’s anything else i should know!

🗡️🕊️🩸

[rue-with-the-tarot]

I share this personal journal entry with the permission and encouragement of my goddesses.

Extending both my hands, I could feel Athena take my left, and Aphrodite take my right. Athena’s power felt like the flame that keeps you warm, and shields you from the cold; not necessarily burning high and bright, but burning consistently, its temperature just right to nurture you. Aphrodite’s power felt like the flame that burns so hot it’s like ice, as if you can’t tell whether you’ve just been burnt to the third degree or if you’ve managed to get frostbite.

They are both Justice.

Athena is the law, the symbol, the spiritual embodiment that Justice cannot be removed from the law, lest it become profane. It is ordered, done with due processes and balances, through the eyes of both gods and mortals. It demands to be seen, recorded, heard and remembered. Athena asks to be remembered as a lesson, as importance, united with humanity’s desire to Never Forget, despite our nature. Because Justice Athena shouldn’t be forgotten, lest injustice seep in. If we forget we’ll do it again. So we try, oh how we try, and we beg for her guidance, although it may not be her name they utter, it is her spirit that listens. The Dependable Flame.

Aphrodite is also Justice. It is in her forms from the East; Astarte and Ishtar-Inanna. The Ladies whom are more than just fair. The Just Ones. But Ori, you ask, in all of their myths they don’t act super justly. First lesson of theirs: look further than skin deep. They are the Lovely Ones and Love, they tell me, is directly tied in with Justice. Not Justice Athena. They do not operate in courts, although they can be seen there; as a woman divorces her abusive husband or when a doting father is given custody of his children. They have been in the highest echelons; ziggurats and temples, paraded through cities, and have been nameless in brothels and on the streets. Helping prostitutes get clean and protecting sex workers from the hazards of the trade. They give justice where you have been harmed, and they are whom Athena often goes to when the law has forgotten. Because justice is not just written, it is spoken, whispered, screamed. It does not care to be remembered, rather it demands to be felt. Our brain capacity is limited but our hearts are boundless, as vast as the oceans they’re born from. The sea foam like the foam at our mouths when we are ravenous for Justice. When we are mad with the need to be avenged. The Vigilante Blaze.

Praise be their names.

[xnoctifers-eveningx]

𒀭𒈹, The Queen of Heaven

"She stirs confusion and chaos against those who are disobedient to her, speeding carnage and inciting the devastating flood, clothed in terrifying radiance. It is her game to speed conflict and battle, untiring, strapping on her sandals."

[aphrodite-in-culture]

Aurora Exist for Love, 2020

Lyrics:

They say there is a war Between the man and the woman, ah, ah I've never felt like this before My heart knew that I couldn't, ah, ah And then you take me in And everything in me begins to feel like I belong Like everybody needs a home And when I take your hand Like the world has never held a man I know I cannot heal the hurt But I will hold you here forever If I can, if I can And then I learned the truth How everything good in life seems to lead back to you And every single time I run into your arms I feel like I exist for love Like I exist for love Only for love I can't imagine how it is To be forbidden from loving, ah, ah 'Cause when you walked into my life I could feel my life begin Like I was torn apart the minute I was only born And you're the other half The only thing that makes me whole I know it sounds like a lot But you really need to know We are leaning out for love And we will lean for love forever, I know I love you so And then I learned the truth How everything good in life seems to lead back to you And every single time I run into your arms I feel like I exist for love Only for love And when you say my name Like white horses on the waves I think it feels the same As an ocean in my veins And you'll be diving in Like nothing is out of place And we exist for love Only for love And I love you, I love you, I love you And I love you, I love you, I love you

[violetmoondaughter]

The star of Ishtar

The Octagram symbol is a star ideogram that commonly appears in ancient Babylonian iconography. The eight-pointed star is usually associated with ancient goddesses such as Ishtar, Innana, Isis and Venus. These goddesses were all seen as protectress of love, fertility, beauty, divine law and power.

The symbol was originally seen as a representation of the seven heavens ruled by the goddess and later became a representation of the planet Venus associated with fertility goddesses. The planet is the third brightest object in Earth's sky after the Sun and the Moon and in the past, it was referred to as the morning or evening star. In the Old Babylonian period, the planet Venus was known as Ninsi'anna translates to "divine lady, illumination of heaven".

In many myths, Inanna’s descend into the netherworld and return to the heavens may correspond with the movements of the planet Venus in the sky, setting in the West and then rising again in the East.

The discontinuous movements of Venus relate to both to the myth as well as Inanna's dual nature. Other theories recognize the story of Inanna's descent into the underworld as a reference to an astronomical phenomenon associated with retrograde Venus.

The symbol refers to the cosmic power of the goddess as ruler of sky and heavens and connected with the transcendental world. Her power stands in the mystery of magic and creation of the universe itself and for this reason the octagram became a powerful sigil used in antiquity as a devotional iconography connected with the goddess worshippers.

[wilcze-kudly]

So @follow-the-compass-home made an interesting point about how all the other victors are specific celestial bodies and Scott is just... stars. And that's not fair so here's an idea:

Scott is Venus

Now, he still gets to keep the star imagery because Venus is often known as the Evening/Morning star. It is the third brightest thing in Earth's sky (the other being the Sun and the Moon).

Venus is of course often associated with the goddess Venus, the Roman equivalent of Aphrodite which also fits quite nicely with Scott's character.

Aphrodite is primarily the goddess of love, which can easily translate to Scott's strong loyalty and devotion to his allies. I mean, he literally rejected the boogeyman curse because it would make him harm his allies. He was also probably one of the only people who could pull off the 'love you' task without being suspicious. As he said himself, it was very on brand for him and barely anyone questioned it. This connection can also apply to how Scott plays the social games if not pushed, gathering allies and IOUs left and right. And the theme of love stays relevant as Scott's very first ally in the series was his 'husband'. Also there being a carnivorous flower named after the planet Venus is a cute little nod to the proverbial flower husband.

Aphrodite is also the goddess of beauty and he is the pretty Scott after all. Scott's love for making pretty and aesthetic bases while in a literal death game is another good example of this connection.

One of the biggest aspects of Aphrodite is her rejecting the husband Zeus assigned her, kinda like how Scott rejected Pearl in Double Life.

Limited life also has a lot of symbolism that could touch on the Venus ties. Aphrodite was said to be born out of the sea and Scott was a Mean Gill that season. Also one of Aphrodite's most famous lovers was Ares. Ares' was known by the Romans as.... Mars.

Aphrodite most likely originates from Ishtar/Inanna, an ancient Mespotamian goddess. One of her symbols is an eight pointed star. She is not only the goddess of love, but also of warfare, which fits into Scott being pretty good at PVP. Sometimes she is referred to with the epithet Irnina, which means victory and Scott is one of the Winners.

In Islamic tradition, Venus is associated with a beautiful woman who managed to get into heaven by tricking a pair of angels, but she became trapped there. Kinda like how Scott became the first victor other than Grian, the watcher.

In Turkik mythology, the god Erkliğ Han is associated with Venus. He is responsible for shooting stars which are called fiery arrows. Scott is very good with a bow, after all.

Tldr; make my boy an actual celestial body he desrves it

[theglamourempress]

e-offering to Inanna-Ishtar #001

[thrashkink-coven]

Disciple of Venus Invocation

Ave Ashtar Lucifer!

Hail Astar Inanna!

I follow the Venus Star

Venus in her names of Ashtar Lucifer

The hidden flame, master of gender,

Queen of Heaven, Goddess of beauty,

we are vessels of your eternal bliss!

Hail Inanna!

Hail Ishtar!

Hail Attar! Athtar! Astar!

Hail Ashtar!

Hail Ashtarot!

Hail Astarte!

Hail Aphrodite!

Hail Phosphorus!

Hail Eosphorus!

Hail Hesperus!

Hail Lucifer!

Agios Es Lucifer Divum Et Vorsipelle

Renich Tasa Uberaca Biasa Icar Lucifer!

Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer!

All praise to the Rebel Star!

All hearts are hers!

He who rises to the glory of the Gods!

God of the Underworld,

Liberator, Illuminator,

bestow us your blessings, for we are yours!

In Nomine Dei Nostri Ashtara Luciferi!

Hail Almighty Venus!

In Venus name,

So Blessed Be!

✴️

[thescarlettbitch]

Worshipping Inanna / Ishtar

This is an informative post about how Inanna was worshipped, or believed to be worship, back in her time, and at the end I'll share how I worship her.

Ritual sex - her high priestess would have ritual sex (whether it was true sex or symbolic is unknown) with the new king to ensure his fortune.

Gender non-conformity - her cult was primarily composed of those outside the binary, and shows men and women adopting the opposing dialect and engaging in sex with each other.

Music and art - most of her myths are in the form of Hymns, and most of her followers were artists, musicians, or dancers. Specifically, war dances would be done in her temple.

Libations - a libation is the ritualistic act of pouring a liquid offering straight from a container onto the earth. In depictions, the person doing the offering was naked.

Unfortunately, due to the passage of time, many specific rituals have been lost. I've scoured and this is really all I can find about her ancient original worship, and a lot of it is disputed because no one knows what was a metaphorical ritual or an actual ritual.

That being said, here is how I worship her in the modern day.

Self-confidence - Inanna was not one to be meek, it is said by many experts and proven in her myths that she was headstrong and didn't care how she was perceived. To honor her, I wear whatever I want. I have a very alternative style and I used to fear people looking at me. She has helped silence my worry and in turn, helped me gain confidence.

Non-conformity - I'm nonbinary, and although my femininity is a major part of my identity, so is masculinity, and so is androgyny. Learning that she had a queer cult following was so liberating, as before learning that I felt like it was wrong of me to work with her. So every little thing I do that isn't in the social construct of the gender binary is for her.

Libations - lucky for me, this is one area of her ancient worship that can be done in a modern setting. I don't have a "proper" container, I just use a normal glass. I've done it with water, coffee, tea, lemonade, and even kool-aid.

Honey/Butter cakes - in, I believe, Inanna and The God Of Wisdom, Enki welcomes her with honey/butter cakes and alcohol. I have only made a honey cake once before and it was shit, but I plan on trying again soon to combine both into a honey bourbon cake. I know they didn't have bourbon back then, but it's a local good I can find and adds a personal touch.

Self love - my fiancé lives across an ocean, so some things we can't do together (both living with family and thin walls), so to honor and worship her, self love is a great way for those in similar situations and she enjoys it from what I've seen.

Offerings - usually dates, sometimes cherries, often lemonade or tea, and more recently honey whiskey. These offerings might not be "traditional" in style, but they work for me and her. I have a small glass from an old Costco tiramisu and an iridescent bowl I got half off at our local grocery, both have an 8pointed star on them. Usually I sit them out for days at a time, or at least over night, and then either ingest them or just toss it in the trash (any other alternative isn't doable in my current situation)

Music - I listen to a variety of music with her, songs about sex, love, anger, fighting, injustice. She loves it, and if you want more detail on this I have a post about the songs on her playlist here.

Driving with the windows down - I love driving, and I feel like doing so with the windows down is an easy multitasking way to cleanse myself and invite good vibes in. Usually I do this while playing her playlist.

Making posts - it may seem a little silly, but a way I honor her is keeping her and her family alive. They are old deities, their civilizations and worshippers lived about 6,000 years ago, and some of her family have had their names lost to time. Making posts about them helps get word out, and keep them "alive".

Digital temples - I play the sims 4 and I saw someone talk about how they wanted to make a temple to their goddess in the game, so... I'm making my own. And will probably have my sims "worship" her via a club. Some people don't see this as an act of worship, but I do. As @thrashkink-coven said in this post, the gods are as modern as they are ancient. I know she enjoys it.

I will go through and make a full post detailing specific UPGs (personal practice things not backed in historical fact) with her, for anyone interested.

[teatitty]

Title/Link: Reverence; an all-encompassing devotion Rating: T+ [15+ to be specific] Warning: Overall theme is about Yugi caring for Atem's corpse so take that as your warning for the levels of goth in this Pairing: Puzzleshipping Additional Tags: Angst, Grief, Longing, Goth Romance, non-sexual nudity, not DSoD compliant, Yugi is Going Through It the whole time Word Count: 10.2K

Summary/Preview:

Yugi gets a call from the Ishtars exactly a year to the date of Atem's passing, imploring him to take an emergency flight to Egypt. He doesn't know what he expects to find, but seeing Atem's perfectly preserved corpse unearthed in an old sarcophagus definitely wasn't it.

A/N: This was an absolute beast to write so everyone give a huge hand to Bikkie for beta reading this for me she's been an absolute gem throughout this process and my biggest supporter in getting this done

[bestygogirl]

BEST YGO GIRL: ROUND 2, GROUP C

Match 8

please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.

Propaganda under the cut!

Isis Ishtar

gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm

Yubel

Nonbinary half-dragon monster lady! Was a devoted bodyguard to protagonist in his past life as a Prince before volunteering to be turned into a duel monster so she could protect him and all his Reincarnations for eternity In his next life was too devoted to murdering everyone who looked at her prince wrong so she got sent into space! to calm down! This didnt work, mostly because she got possessed by a primal force! So she made an elaborate revenge plot to make protagonist love her again (including possessing his current boyfriend and sticking him in a sexy leather villain outfit) Eventually protagonist duels her into a redemption arc and they bond thier souls for eternity Which ends up with her possessing the protagonist so she can live in his body and protect him always Also so she can be the judgy voice of reason living in his head telling him to be less of a dumbass

[ashwritesmonsters]

If your requests are still open, then can I get a smug buff male demon and a shy chubby female reader? Rating grapefruit. With some dubcon and an emphasis on breasts.

Shy Chubby F!Reader x Smug Buff M!Demon

Note: Hey! Thanks for your request, it was actually a lot of fun to get back into writing some good ol' smut. Not sure how active I can be on this blog right now, but if anyone is okay with waiting then send your requests please! I really do enjoy writing them when I can; I've been doing a ton of writing lately, just not this kind of stuff, so it's nice to have a reason to come back to it. Also this is really long for a request tbh, I hope that's cool.

Content: Dubcon (honestly kinda light; I can't seem to stop making things end up cute and sweet) and breast play, as requested.

"It's called 'Temple of the Body?' Really?" You asked, immediately skeptical of any gym too fancy to have the word "gym" in its name.

"Yeah, it's a good gym! It's got everything you could ever need, it just happens to be in Honeycomb," Phoebe seemed a little too defensive of her gym of choice—you could practically hear her petals bristling—but the Dryad always was eager to convince you of things. "You know how Ishtar followers tend to wax poetic about stuff like that."

"Honeycomb isn't exactly a neighborhood that's nearby, Phoebe. It's almost on the opposite side of town from me."

"You'd rather work out alone than drive an extra…" Phoebe's taps on her phone screen as she mapped the route attacked your ear. "...fifteen minutes and have me as a gym buddy?"

"No, but…" You couldn't quite explain your apprehension. Of course, going to any gym was daunting, and needing to pay for a membership didn't help.

You chewed your lip, searching for the right words to express your unease. The idea of working out in Honeycomb, a neighborhood known for its devotion to Ishtar, sent a wave of anxiety through you. That was the only part of town where you had seen a community recreational center host "naked swim days" and let people post flyers advertising weekly orgies.

"It's just... Honeycomb is a bit... woo-woo, isn't it?" You finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Phoebe's laughter sparkled through the phone. "Oh, come on! It's not like everyone's walking around naked or anything."

You winced, wanting to say "they kind of are." Honeycomb's reputation for body positivity and sensuality was well-known throughout the city. The thought of your softer curves standing out amidst a sea of chiseled abs and defined muscles made your stomach churn.

"I don't know, Phoebe. I'm not exactly... Honeycomb material." Your fingers absently plucked at the hem of your shirt, suddenly hyper-aware of the way it clung to your midsection.

"What are you talking about? Everyone starts somewhere!" Phoebe's voice softened, a hint of concern creeping in. "Is this about the whole Ishtar thing?"

You sighed, sinking deeper into your couch. "Maybe? It's just... you know how people are there. All touchy-feely and confident. I'm not sure I'd fit in."

"Hey, that's not fair. Ishtar followers aren't all about perfect bodies, you know. It's about loving yourself as you are."

Your skepticism must have traveled through the phone because Phoebe quickly added, "Look, why don't you visit on the next Tuesday—Trial Tuesday, when newbies can try it out—and see how you feel? Just because people in Honeycomb look nice and act confident doesn't mean they're douchebags. They do follow the goddess of love, after all."

You let out a long sigh, your resolve crumbling under Phoebe's enthusiastic persuasion. "Alright, alright. I'll give it a try. But just one visit, okay?"

"Yes! You won't regret it, I promise." Phoebe's excitement bubbled through the phone. "Oh, and don't forget to mention my name at the front desk. They know me there."

Your stomach twisted. "Wait, you're not coming with me?"

"Ah, about that..." Phoebe's voice took on an apologetic tone. "I've got a work thing that day. But you'll be fine! The staff there are super friendly."

Great. Now you'd be venturing into unknown territory alone. "Some gym buddy you are," you grumbled.

"You've got this," Phoebe assured you. "Text me after and tell me how it goes!"

The day of your gym visit arrived all too quickly. You stood in front of your bedroom mirror, tugging at the hem of your new workout top. The fabric clung to your curves in a way that made you both self-conscious and oddly confident. Turns out, all it takes to look like a gym goer is to put on gym clothes.

Your eyes traveled over your reflection, taking in the sight of your body wrapped in still-returnable athletic wear. The leggings hugged your thighs, accentuating their shape. You turned to the side, observing how the high-waisted band looked painted on to your stomach.

There were a couple things going through your mind; anxiety gnawed at the edges of it, whispering doubts about how you'd measure up in a gym full of the Honeycomb crowd and Ishtar followers. But beneath that, a strange note of confidence too. The outfit, despite its snugness, was incredibly comfortable, and knowing you'd be dressed the same as everyone else helped a bit.

You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders. "It's just one visit," you reminded yourself, meeting your own gaze in the mirror. "You can do this."

Grabbing your gym bag, you headed for the door. The drive to Honeycomb seemed both endless and far too short. As you pulled into the parking lot of Temple of the Body, your heart raced. The building loomed before you, its architecture fitting in with the Honeycomb aesthetic to a tee; a stone facade covered in elaborate geometric inlays, flowering vines and planters, and—of course—nude relief sculptures of Ishtar. She didn't look like you at all.

You sit in your car for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel. Part of you wants to turn around and drive home, but Phoebe's encouragement echoes in your mind, as does the potential nagging if you bail. With a final deep breath, you step out of the car.

The automatic doors slide open, unleashing a wave of cool air with a hint of lavender. You approach the front desk, where a smiling woman greets you; she definitely fits in with the Honeycomb crowd, her dyed blue hair and tattoos complementing her body, which definitely belonged in a gym.

"Welcome to Temple of the Body! How can I help you today?"

You swallow hard, willing your voice not to shake. "Hi, I'm here for a... a trial visit? My friend Phoebe recommended this place."

The woman's smile widens. "Oh, you're a friend of Phoebe's? Wonderful! Let me get you set up with a trial pass. Remember, there's no commitment and you can always come back next Trial Tuesday if you're still not sure."

You take a tentative step into the lobby, your eyes sweeping across the space. The interior of Temple of the Body is a far cry from the utilitarian gyms you've seen in your own part of town. Warm, earthy tones dominate the decor, with splashes of vibrant greens from potted plants scattered throughout the sandstone-like interior alongside more of those damn nude Ishtar statues.

As you peer into the main workout area, your breath catches in your throat. The first thing that strikes you is the sheer diversity of the clientele. Humans mingle with metahumans of all kinds—you spot a towering Minotaur spotting for a petite Naga on the bench press, while a group of Dryads lead a yoga class in a glass-walled room with poses that would kill you.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to the brawny. A human woman with abs you could grate cheese on effortlessly pulls herself up on a set of rings. Nearby, an Orc with biceps the size of your thighs curls a dumbbell that looks heavier than you.

But as you continue to scan the room, you spot a few bodies that look more like yours. A human man with a round, doughy build jogs on a treadmill, his face flushed but determined. In the free weights section, a literally thicker Dryad, her bark-like skin adorned with moss, performs squats with perfect form.

You watch as another group finishes up a class, laughing and chatting as they towel off and head to what is presumably the locker rooms. The camaraderie is palpable, with people of all shapes and sizes offering each other high-fives and chatting like old friends.

The receptionist gently touches your arm. "Would you like a quick tour before you start your trial session?"

You nod, still a bit conflicted. Everything you've seen so far is living up to Phoebe's promises, but the anxiety in your gut is far too resilient to be defeated this quickly.

"Great!" She looks around, eyes searching the gym floor, before finding her target and pointing at what you can only describe as a mountain of a Demon as he sits on a bench, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. "That's Zeke, one of our personal trainers. He'll tell you all about the gym and guide you through your workout today, if you'd like."

"Uh…" You stammer. Everything and everyone has been welcoming so far, but you'd be lying if you weren't a bit intimidated by Zeke. Much of his deep crimson skin is on display thanks to his scant tank top and tiny shorts, crowned by a pair of curling onyx horns.

The receptionist notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Zeke may look intimidating, but he's a sweetheart. He's Phoebe’s trainer, and actually our most popular one for newcomers."

Before you can protest, she calls out, "Hey Zeke! Got a new member here who could use a tour."

The massive Demon's head snaps up at the sound of his name, and a broad grin spreads across his face as he spots you. He stands, his impressive height becoming even more apparent as he makes his way over.

"Hey there! I'm Zzikaerax, but you can just call me Zeke," he says, his voice a deep rumble that you can almost feel in your chest. "Welcome to Temple of the Body!"

You introduce yourself, your voice sounding small in comparison. Zeke's presence is overwhelming, not just because of his size, but because of the sheer energy he exudes. His crimson skin seems to radiate warmth, and his onyx horns gleam under the gym's lights.

"First time here, huh?" Zeke asks, leaning in close. You catch a whiff of something spicy and intoxicating. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

The receptionist chimes in, "Zeke's a lust Demon, but don't let that worry you. He's all about helping people feel good about themselves and their bodies."

Zeke nods enthusiastically. "That's right! Nothing makes me happier than seeing someone fall in love with fitness and their own body. Sweat is just foreplay for success, as I always say."

As he speaks, Zeke places a large hand on your shoulder, guiding you towards the gym floor. His touch is warm, almost hot, and you're not sure if it's because of his demonic nature or if it's just your own nervousness causing you to fixate on the contact.

"So, what are your fitness goals?" Zeke asks, his face inches from yours as he leans down to hear your response. "Strength? Flexibility? Or maybe you just want to feel more confident?"

You stammer out a vague answer about generally just getting your heart rate up, acutely aware of how close Zeke is standing. Is this normal in Honeycomb? You know that followers of Ishtar tend to be more physically affectionate, but you can't help the way your body reacts.

As you walk through the gym, Zeke's hand remains on your shoulder, occasionally sliding down to the small of your back as he guides you around equipment. His touch is gentle but firm, and you find yourself unsure whether to lean into it or step away.

"And over here we have our cardio section," Zeke says, gesturing with his free hand, "the second best way to get your heart rate up." He winks at you, and you feel a flush creep up your neck.

As Zeke guides you onto the gym floor, your heart races, and not just from anticipation of the workout. His massive hand rests on the small of your back, warm and impossibly large against your skin.

"Let's start with some basic stretches," he rumbles, his voice low and intimate. "Gotta make sure you're nice and limber."

You nod, not trusting your voice. Zeke positions himself behind you, his presence looming large.

"Arms up, reach for the sky," he instructs. As you comply, his hands ghost along your sides, ostensibly to check your form. "Good, now bend forward, try to touch your toes."

You lean down, feeling exposed. Zeke's hands slide down your back, fingertips tracing your spine. "Breathe deep," he murmurs, so close you can feel his breath on your neck.

With each new stretch, Zeke's touch lingers longer, grows bolder. He guides your hips into position for a lunge, fingers splayed across your waist. When you rotate your torso, his palm presses flat against your stomach, steadying you.

"How's that feel?" he asks, voice husky.

"Good," you manage to squeak out, unsure if you're referring to the stretch or his touch.

Zeke moves to face you, demonstrating a shoulder roll. "Like this," he says, reaching out to manipulate your arms. His fingers trail down to your wrists, circling them gently before releasing.

You can't ignore the heat radiating from his skin, the way his eyes seem to drink you in. Is this normal for a trainer? For a lust Demon? For Honeycomb?

"Last one," Zeke announces, moving behind you once more. "We'll do a standing backbend. Don't worry, I've got you."

His massive hands span your ribcage as you lean back, trusting him to support your weight. You feel the solid wall of muscle against your back, his breath hot on your ear.

"That's it," he encourages, "just relax into it."

You hold the position, hyper-aware of every point of contact between your bodies. Zeke's thumbs rub small circles on your sides, a gesture that feels more intimate than instructional.

As he helps you straighten up, his hands linger, sliding around to your stomach. You stand there, pressed against him, breath coming quick and shallow.

"How do you feel now?" Zeke asks, his voice a low purr.

You swallow hard, mind reeling. The warmth of his touch, the spicy scent of his skin, the raw energy emanating from him – it's all too much, too intense. And yet, you can't bring yourself to step away. Probably because you're so dedicated to this workout, right?

"Um… good," you admit, though 'good' at best is a lie of omission.

"Good!" Zeke gently claps the small of your back, sending more shivers up your spine. "Stretching is important to do before any exercise, whether it's a session at the gym or something more impromptu."

Zeke steps back, giving you space to breathe, to think. His smile is warm, inviting, as he moves into an open area of the gym. "Let's start with some basic strength exercises," he says, beckoning you to follow.

You mirror his stance as he demonstrates a squat, feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulders back. His muscles shift beneath his tank top, a mesmerizing display of controlled power. You try to focus on his form, on the way his knees bend and his hips hinge, but your eyes are drawn to the expanse of crimson skin stretching over hard muscle, the way his shorts cling to his thighs, barely containing the thick outline of his cock.

"Like this," he encourages, dropping into a deep squat. You mimic him, feeling the burn in your thighs, the stretch in your glutes. His eyes are on you, watching, assessing. You flush under his gaze, a mix of exertion and something else, something hot pooling in your stomach.

"Good," he praises, standing up. "Now, lunges."

He demonstrates the movement, one leg stretched out behind him, the other bent at the knee. His shorts ride up, revealing more of his thigh, the curve of his ass. You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away to focus on your own form.

You lunge forward, wobbling slightly. Zeke's hands are there instantly, steadying you. His touch is hot, searing through the thin fabric of your leggings. "Easy," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "Take your time. It's not a race."

You nod, trying to ignore the heat of his hands, the way your heart is pounding in your chest. You lunge again, slower this time, more controlled. Zeke's hands follow you, guiding you, supporting you.

"That's it," he says, his voice like velvet. "You're doing great."

You can feel the sweat trickling down your spine, the flush in your cheeks. Zeke's eyes are on you, intense, focused. You can't look away, can't break the connection. There's something in his gaze, something hungry.

He steps closer, his hands still on your waist. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the spicy scent of his skin filling your nostrils. "You're strong," he says, his voice a low growl. "You just need to believe it."

You stand there, frozen, heart pounding. Zeke's hands slide around to your back, pulling you closer. You can feel the hard planes of his chest against yours, the thickness of his barely-contained cock pressed against your stomach.

"Zeke," you whisper, your voice barely audible. You're not sure if it's a protest or a plea.

He leans down, his breath hot on your ear. "Yes?"

Your hands are on his chest, his heart thudding under your palm. You can feel the power in him, the raw, untamed energy. It's frightening. Intoxicating. You're not sure what you want, what you're doing. But you're pretty sure you don't want him to stop.

"I...I don't know what I'm doing," you admit, your voice a whisper.

Zeke's lips curl into a smile, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's okay," he says, his voice a low purr. "I do."

His hands slide down to cup your ass, pulling you against him. You gasp, your eyes widening. He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Trust me," he says, his voice a soft growl.

And you do. You trust him, even though you barely know him. Even though he's a lust Demon, even though you're in the middle of a gym, even though this is all happening too fast. You trust him, because somehow, inexplicably, it feels right.

His lips brush against yours, a soft, gentle touch that sends sparks shooting through your veins. You melt into him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers tangling in his horns. He groans, a low, hungry sound that sends a hot shiver coursing through you.

You're vaguely aware of the other people in the gym, of the clank of weights and the hum of conversation. But it all fades away, lost in the heat of Zeke's kiss, the feel of his hands on your body, the press of his cock against you.

He breaks the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes are like molten lava, hot and hungry. "You're doing amazing for a newbie," he growls, his voice a low rumble.

You can't speak, can't think. You look around, and nobody seems to be paying you any notice. All you can do is feel. Feel the heat of his body, the strength of his arms, the hardness of his cock. Is this sort of thing normal here? Is rutting your cock against someone the Honeycomb way of saying hello? Do the people around you just think Zeke is your boyfriend or something?

Zeke's hands slide under your top, his fingers tracing the curves of your body. You shiver, your breath hitching in your throat. His touch is like fire, burning away all your doubts, all your fears. Still, nobody is looking at you two. Not like you would be able to care right now, anyway.

"Zeke," you gasp, definitely a plea this time.

He smiles, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. "Yes?"

You can't answer, can't find the words. But you don't need to. Zeke knows what you want, what you need. And he's more than willing to give it to you.

His hands slide up, cupping your breasts through your sports bra. You arch into his touch, a moan escaping your lips. He chuckles, his thumbs circling your nipples, plucking a gasp from your lips.

"So…" he rumbles, lowering his hands and resting them on your hips, "we could stay out here, do some more core exercises… or we could take this somewhere else."

"Somewhere else?" You manage to get out. Zeke's eyes finally lose their lock on you, and you follow his gaze to a doorway towards the back of the gym.

You follow Zeke's gaze to the doorway at the back of the gym that you saw the class exit through earlier. He leads you towards it, his hand still resting on your hip, fingers tracing small circles that send shivers up your spine. The doorway is unassuming, blending into the wall, but as you step through, your breath catches. It leads to the locker room—just one.

The room is vast, tiled in shades of blue and green, with lockers lining one wall and showers along the other. Steam fills the air, and the scent of soap and something more primal hangs heavy. In the center, there are benches, mats, and towels scattered about. And people. Humans and metahumans in various states of undress, some showering, some intertwined with others, touching and moaning with satisfied pleasure.

Your eyes widen, taking it all in. Zeke's lips curl into a smirk as he watches your reaction. "Welcome to the real Temple of the Body," he rumbles, his voice echoing off the tiles. "This is why our members keep coming back."

He guides you further inside, his hand sliding from your hip to the small of your back. You can't help but stare. A Naga, her scales shimmering under the water, is entwined with a human in one of the shower stalls. On a mat, a Minotaur, his gold septum ring glinting, kneels behind a Dryad, his hands exploring her bark-like skin as his massive cock grows from soft and drooping to hard and leaking.

"Zeke, what..." you start, but his finger presses against your lips, silencing you.

"Shh, no judgments here," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. "This is a reward for working hard, for improving yourself every day."

He steers you to an empty bench, his hands on your shoulders, gentle but firm, pushing you down. You sit, the tile cold against your thighs. Zeke stands over you, his crimson skin a stark contrast to the pale blue of the locker room.

"You're curious," he says, his voice low, commanding. "I can see it in your eyes. You're shy but you want to be just like them."

You swallow hard, unsure how to defend yourself against an accusation so true. Zeke takes your silence as consent, dropping to his knees in front of you. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart, making room for him. Looking between his horns, the Minotaur from earlier has the Dryad speared on his cock, bouncing her on his lap as she cries out.

"Let's start slow," he growls, his eyes locked onto yours. His hands slide up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your leggings. He tugs, and you lift your hips, allowing him to pull them off. The tepid, humid air hits your skin, sending goosebumps racing up your legs.

Zeke's hands roam, cupping your calves, kneading your thighs. His touch is firm, possessive. He leans in, his breath hot on your inner thigh. "You smell delicious," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin.

Your heart hammers in your chest as his hands move higher, gripping your hips, thumbs digging into your flesh. His eyes are fixed on your breasts, heaving with each ragged breath. He licks his lips, a hungry, primal gesture that sends a surge of heat through you.

"Look at you," he growls. "So soft." His hands move up, cupping your breasts through your sports bra. You gasp as his thumbs find your nipples, circling, teasing. The fabric is thin—too thin to even tell it’s there.

You squirm under his gaze, his touch. It's too much, too intense. But Zeke holds you firm, his hands demanding, his eyes commanding. "Don't move," he orders, his voice harsh. "Let me explore you."

His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra with a swift, practiced motion. He pulls it off, baring you to his gaze. You shiver, resisting the urge to cover yourself. Zeke's eyes drink you in, his pupils dilating.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he rasps, his hands cupping your breasts, lifting them, squeezing them. His touch is rough, just shy of painful, but it sends jolts of pleasure coursing through you.

He leans in, his tongue flicking out, teasing your nipple. You gasp, arching into the warmth of his licks. He chuckles, a low, throaty sound. "Sensitive, aren't you?" he murmurs, before taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

You cry out, your hands finding their way to his horns, gripping them tightly. Zeke groans, the sound vibrating against your skin. He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. "You like that?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. "You like it rough?"

You nod, breathless, unable to speak. Zeke's lips curl into a wicked smile. "Good," he says, his hands gripping your breasts, squeezing and kneading them. "Because I like it rough too."

His mouth finds your other nipple, biting, sucking, as his hands continue to explore your body. You're lost in a sea of sensation, drowning in the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body pressed against yours.

Zeke's hands slide down, gripping your hips, digging into your flesh. He pulls you to the edge of the bench, pressing his body between your thighs. You can feel the hard length of him, the heat of him, even through his shorts.

He grinds against you, his mouth finding yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you. You moan into his kiss, your hands still gripping his horns, holding on for dear life.

Zeke pulls back, his breath ragged, his eyes wild. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy," he growls. "I want to taste you."

His hands move to your thighs, spreading them wider. You're exposed, vulnerable, but you trust him. You want this. You need this.

Zeke leans in, his breath hot on your core. You tremble, anticipating his touch. But he hesitates, his eyes meeting yours. "Is this okay?" he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle for a moment.

You nod, breathless. "Yes," you manage to gasp out. "Please."

The gentleness disappears. Zeke's hands grip your thighs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. His breath is hot on your skin, sending shivers up your spine. You can feel his hunger, his desire, in every touch, every movement. His long, forked tongue flicks out, rough against your clit, and your legs shake in response. A gasp escapes your lips, your hands grasping at the bench, searching for something to ground you.

Zeke's tongue works magic on your flesh, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. You can't help but squirm under his touch, your hips bucking against his mouth. He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that vibrates against your skin. "Eager, aren't you?" he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with amusement and desire.

You flush, a mix of embarrassment and arousal heating your cheeks. Zeke's smirk widens, his tongue circling your clit with a teasing slowness. "Don't fight it," he growls, his hands sliding up to grip your hips, holding you firmly in place. "Let go. Submit to it."

Your breath hitches in your throat, your body tensing as his tongue flicks against you, relentless and demanding. The pressure builds, coiling and ready to snap. You can feel the eyes of the others on you, watching, waiting. It's overwhelming, intoxicating, pushing you closer to the edge.

Zeke senses your hesitation, your resistance. He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours, intense and commanding. "Look at them," he orders, his voice harsh. "They're all watching you, wanting you. They can see how much you need this, how much you want it."

You do as he says, your gaze flicking around the room. A Naga's eyes are locked onto you, her hand moving faster and faster over her slit, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The Minotaur has turned to watch you, his cock hard and dripping as it presses against the Dryad's ass. She looks at you too, her eyes eager as she takes a break from the Minotaur's pounding.

"See?" Zeke murmurs, his breath hot on your skin. "We're all the same, really. Even your Dryad friend loves bouncing on my cock after a run on the treadmill."

His words break down the last of your resistance. You let go, surrendering to the sensation, to the desire. Your body tenses, your muscles clenching tightly, and then you're falling, tumbling over the edge into a sea of pleasure.

Zeke's tongue never stops, never relents, drawing out your orgasm, wringing every last drop of pleasure from your body. You cry out, your voice echoing off the tiled walls, joining the rest of the searing hot orgasms around you. Your body shakes, your legs trembling, your hands gripping the bench so tightly your knuckles turn white.

As the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse back onto the bench, your body limp and sated. Zeke lifts his head, his lips glistening with your juices, a smug smile on his face. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Good girl," he praises, his voice a low purr. "You did so well."

You can't speak, can't form words. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in your chest. Zeke stands, his body towering over you, his cock hard and straining against his shorts. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

"But we're not done yet," he rumbles, his voice dark. "Not until I've had my fun with these."

Zeke's hands claim your breasts again, his fingers splayed possessively over their softness. He seems entranced, his gaze locked onto the generous curves, his thumbs tracing the delicate line of your collarbone before dipping down to circle your nipples. You can't ignore the raw hunger in his eyes, the unapologetic want that has him captivated.

"Fuck, I could get lost in these things,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that resonates through you. His hands are rough, kneading and squeezing, as if he can't get enough of the feel of you. You gasp as his fingers pinch your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through you.

He releases you, only to hook his thumbs into the waistband of his tiny shorts. With a swift, confident motion, he pulls them down, revealing his cock. It springs free, thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum. You stare, your heart pounding in your chest. It's intimidating, the size of it, the thickness, the weight. Not to mention the heavy balls hanging beneath, full with his lust.

Zeke chuckles, a sound like distant thunder, as he sees your expression. "Don't worry," he says, his voice a soothing growl. "I'm don't feel like pussy right now." He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want to fuck these lovely, heavy breasts first. I want to slide my cock between them until I paint your face."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of relief and anticipation. You look up at him, your eyes wide, your lips slightly parted. Zeke smiles, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. He straddles the bench, his powerful thighs framing your body, his cock jutting out proudly.

"Come here," he orders, his voice gentle yet commanding. He guides your hands to your breasts, encouraging you to cup them, to lift them to meet him. You do as he says, your fingers sinking into the soft flesh, your heart racing. Zeke groans, his eyes darkening as he watches you. "Fuck, that's hot," he murmurs. "Always wanted to do this."

He shifts closer, his cock resting heavy and hot on your breasts. You look down at it, a bead of precum dripping onto your skin, marking you. Zeke's hands cover yours, squeezing, molding your breasts around his cock. He starts to move, a slow, steady thrust that sends his cock sliding through the valley of your breasts.

The sensation is strangely gratifying. The heat of him, the hardness, the wetness of his precum slicking the way. You look up at Zeke, his face a mask of concentration and pleasure, his horns casting dramatic shadows on the wall behind him. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his body tensing with each thrust.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he growls, his eyes locked onto yours. "Your skin, your softness... it's driving me crazy."

You can't look away, can't break the connection. You're entranced, caught up in the raw, primal rhythm of his body. Your hands surrender to his commands, squeezing your breasts tighter around him, creating more friction, more pleasure.

Zeke's thrusts become faster, more urgent. His breath hitches, his body tenses. He's close, you can feel it. You can see it in the wildness of his eyes, the strain of his muscles. His cock swells, the tip turning a deep, angry red.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he grunts, his voice barely more than a growl. His hands move to your face, cupping your cheeks, his thumbs tracing your lips. "I want to paint your face with my cum. Get ready!"

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. You're nervous, excited, aroused—too many things all at once. But you trust him. You want this. You want to feel him, to feel the heat of his seed on your skin.

Zeke's body goes rigid, a roar ripping through his throat. His cock pulses, hot streams of cum shooting out, painting your breasts, your chest, your face. It's dirty, it's raw, it's intimate. You gasp, your body trembling as you feel the heat of him, the possessiveness of his mark.

His breath slows, his body relaxing. He looks down at you, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Fuck, you look good like this," he murmurs, his thumb smearing a drop of cum across your cheek.

You can't speak, can't form words. Your body is still trembling, your mind still reeling. Zeke leans down, licking some of himself off you before his lips brush against yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

He pulls back, his eyes searching yours. "You okay?" he asks, his voice soft, the gentleness from earlier returning.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yes," you manage to whisper. "I'm okay."

Zeke smiles back, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "Good," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Let's get you cleaned up, then."

Zeke stands, offering you his hand. You take it, your legs still shaky, and he leads you towards the showers. The room is filled with steam, the sound of water hitting tile echoing off the walls. You pass by a Succubus, her midnight blue skin glistening as she moves under the spray, her hands braced against the wall as a Satyr fucks her from behind. She hisses in pleasure, her spade-tipped tail coiling around his leg, pulling him deeper.

You look away, a blush heating your cheeks. Zeke chuckles, squeezing your hand. "Don't be shy, babe. Everyone's just enjoying themselves here."

He leads you to an empty showerhead, turning the knob until water cascades down. He tests the temperature, adjusting it until he's satisfied. Then he turns to you, his hands on your shoulders, guiding you under the spray.

The water is hot, soothing your muscles, washing away the sweat and cum from your skin. You close your eyes, tilting your head back, letting the water run over your face. Zeke's hands are gentle as he lathers soap onto a towel, washing you with careful, deliberate movements.

"You did good out there," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Pushed yourself. That's what this place is about. Pushing limits, finding boundaries."

You open your eyes, looking up at him. His horns are dark against the bright tile, his eyes intent on his task. He's being gentle, caring, but there's still that self-assured smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. It's like this was his plan from the beginning; while you were losing control, feverish and horny, this was just another day at work for him.

"It's weird," you admit, your voice soft. "Being here, doing... this. It's not what I expected."

Zeke laughs, a deep, throaty sound. "That's the point, babe. Expect the unexpected. That's where growth happens."

He runs the washrag over your breasts, your stomach, between your legs. His touch is clinical, but there's an intimacy to it that sends a warm flush through you. He's taking care of you, in his own way.

Next to you, the Succubus cries out, her body writhing as she comes. The Satyr grunts, his hands gripping her hips as he finds his own release. You watch, your breath hitching, as they slow, their bodies still joined.

Zeke follows your gaze, a small smile on his face. "See? Everyone's just here to feel good. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

He turns you around, washing your back, your ass. His hands are firm, confident. You can feel his cock, hard again, pressing against your hip. But he makes no move to take things further, content to just wash you, touch you.

"You're tense," he says, his thumbs digging into the muscles of your shoulders. "Relax. Cooling down is just as important as warming up."

You take a deep breath, trying to let the tension go. Zeke's hands move to your neck, your scalp, massaging gently. It feels good, too good. You can feel yourself melting under his touch, your body leaning into his.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice approving. "Just let go."

He turns you back around, rinsing the soap from your body. His eyes meet yours, his expression soft. "You're strong, you know that? Stronger than you think."

You shake your head, a small smile on your face. "I'm not strong. I'm... I'm just me."

Zeke's hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. "You can be both."

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It's gentle, chaste, a surprising contrast to his earlier roughness. You kiss him back, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

When he pulls back, his eyes are soft, warm. "Feel better?" he asks.

You nod, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Yes. Thank you."

He grins, his smugness returning. "Told you I'd take good care of you."

He turns off the water, grabbing a towel from a nearby shelf. He wraps it around you, his hands rubbing your arms, warming you. You step out of the shower, your eyes sweeping over the room.

The Minotaur and the Dryad are gone, their shower empty. The Naga and the Satyr are cleaning up, their bodies slick with soap, their movements languid, sated. You watch them, a sense of peace settling over you.

–––

You grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles still flushed from the shower's heat and Zeke's touch. The city lights blur past as you drive home, the rumble of the engine echoing your pulsing heart. With a trembling hand, you dial Phoebe.

"Phoebe," you say, voice tight, "you could've warned me about the gym. And Zeke. And the locker room… and everything else!"

A soft laugh echoes through the line. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I thought you'd find it exciting. A little adventure."

"Adventure?" You scoff, but your voice lacks real anger. "Phoebe, it was an orgy. And Zeke... he was..." You trail off, remembering his hands, his tongue, his commands.

"He was what?" Phoebe asks, her voice laced with amusement.

You sigh, admitting, "He was intense. And I... I bought a membership."

Phoebe laughs again, a sound like leaves rustling. "I knew you'd like it. Zeke has that effect on people."

"You could've told me," you grumble, but there's no heat in your words. You find yourself curious, eager even. "You know, told me anything at all."

Phoebe hesitates, then begins, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Told you what? That he loves fucking me after a run? That he says he loves how my body moves, how my vines pulse with magic when I come."

You swallow hard, your body already heating at the image. "Okay, first, TMI. Second… your vines… do they really do that?"

"Mm-hmm," Phoebe hums. "It's like every nerve ending is on fire. He likes to run his tongue along them, make me shake and shiver."

You shift in your seat, your body aching at the mental image. "Goodness." A small gasp escapes your lips.

"You okay?" Phoebe asks, concern in her voice.

"Fine," you breathe. "Just... remembering."

Phoebe laughs softly. "Good memories, I hope. Did he stick it in you on your first day?"

"No, and I'm glad he didn't, honestly," you chuckle, a nervous reaction to the heat rushing to your cheeks. "Um, Phoebe, I should go. I'm almost home."

"Alright, girl," she says, her voice warm. "But don't think you're getting off that easy. We're having coffee tomorrow, and you're telling me everything."

You laugh, a mix of embarrassment and excitement bubbling up. "Fine, fine. But you're buying."

"Deal," Phoebe agrees. "Get some rest, you'll need it for your next session."

Pulling into your parking spot, you kill the engine and sit for a moment. Your body aches in places you didn't know could ache, but there's a satisfaction underneath it all. A sense of accomplishment, of pushing your boundaries.

You make your way inside, dropping your gym bag by the door. In your bedroom, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You look... different. Flushed, alive, and a little bit of something else in your posture. You smile at your reflection, remembering Zeke's words. "You can be both."

[haggishlyhagging]

“In the Chinese myth of the great flood, the Moon Goddess sent her representative to earth, after the waters had subsided, to repeople the world. In the Babylonian account, Ishtar, the Moon Goddess, is reported to have both caused the great flood and to have saved a remnant of her people. Here her dual character is clearly seen, for she herself sent the flood and then lamented over the havoc she had wrought. On the Eleventh Tablet of Creation is told the story of the flood. It is called "The Lamentation of Ishtar at the Great Deluge." According to this ancient record the goddess Ishtar prophesied evil which immediately came to pass. If a person endowed with magic power prophesies, according to the "magic" way of thinking, she evokes that which she has prophesied, whether it be good or evil. We are still swayed by this old attitude when we feel it to be unlucky to suggest that something may go wrong, or that there may be an accident, or other misfortune, and we can still "feel" a hint of the dread which was caused by a witch's curse. For the curse was by no means only a wish that evil might be fall, it was believed actually to bring to pass the evil that had been "wished on" the cursed one. This colloquial expression gives the nearest modern equivalent to the old concept of a witch's prophecy or curse. So Ishtar, who was a noted prophetess, as were all the moon goddesses in whom the dark side of the moon was represented, prophesied evil, thus bringing the flood upon the earth. Then when mankind and all the animals were threatened by the rising waters, she pitied their plight and saved them.

Spake Ishtar like a child uttered the great goddess her speech, “All to corruption are turned and then I in the presence of the gods prophesied and

As I prophesied in the presence of the gods evil, to evil were devoted all my people and I prophesied

I the mother have begotten my people and like the young of the fishes they fill the sea

The gods concerning the spirits were weeping with me

The gods in seats seated in lamentation covered with their lips for the coming evil

Six days and nights passed

The wind, the deluge, storm overwhelmed.

On the seventh day in its course, was calmed the storm and all the deluge

Which had destroyed like an earth quake,

Quieted.”

As the poem proceeds, Ishtar is depicted in the boat which she has made and from which, like Noah from the Ark:

“On the seventh day in the course of it I sent forth a dove and it left”

. . .

"I sent the animals forth to the four winds"

There was probably an earlier version of this myth which makes the Moon God the central figure. Noah, in the Old Testament story, is probably a form of Nuah, a Babylonian moon goddess, and like Ishtar, he saved a remnant of the world from destruction in an ark which he built. Then when the waters subsided, Noah, taught by a dove, the bird which is invariably associated with moon deities, came out onto the land. The depopulated earth was repeopled from him and his family alone. He was thus the father of all who were born subsequently. As he had taken with him in the ark one pair of each animal species he was thus the generator or creator of all animal life on the renewed or redeemed earth.

The word ark is cognate with the Hindu word argha, which means crescent, and also with the arc of a circle. The ark in which Father Noah carried the animals over the flood was thus a moon boat. This story is put into the form of history, in the Old Testament, as is so much of religious myth. Even today, controversy still centers around the problem of the factual basis for the almost generally accepted legend of a great flood. Whatever may be the truth in regard to the deluge, it is clear that the story of the moon boat refers to psychological events. In the Chaldean story the whole happening is concretized. It is living men and animals who are transported over the floods to the "New World." In the Egyptian story Osiris, the Moon God, ferried the dead man who had been initiated into his rites, over the waters to the Isle of the Blest, and so gave him immortality. This also was a concretization. It was thought of as having an actual physical reality. But the Hindus, who were more psychologically minded than either the Chaldeans or the Egyptians, speak of the moon as carrying the souls of the dead over the waters to the sun where they live a redeemed life. This transition is represented in the Tantric diagrams of the Seven Stages of Consciousness. There the crescent moon is seen in the watery region, above which comes the fiery region of the sun. But already this is realized as symbol. The psychical is no longer projected into a concrete semihistorical happening, but the myth is recognized as representing stages of consciousness or of psychological development.

The moon boat of the Hindus carries the souls to the new world, the new incarnation, it is the boat of immortality. The Chinese moon goddess after the flood gives birth to all living things. It is a renewed world and a new creation. Men, women, and all animals arise from the different parts of her person. The moon goddess of Western Asia and of Europe similarly gave birth to all living creatures. The statues of Diana and those of the Asiatic moon goddesses in their hieratic form show animals and plants springing from heads, limbs, and breasts. For the Moon Goddess is the Many Breasted Mother of All, creator of all life on the earth.

The Moon Goddess is, in literal fact, the mother of all living things and yet, strange though it may seem, not only is she the life-giver but also the destroyer. She creates all life on the earth, and then comes the flood, which overwhelms it. And this flood is her doing, for she is cause of rain and storm and tide and also of the flood. But like Ishtar of Babylon, she laments at its consequences and does her best to save her children, who have all become ‘like the fishes of the sea.’ Similarly, though she stands passively by when her son is killed, the Moon Goddess mourns, as Aphrodite did, at the defeat and death of Adonis, an event that was commemorated annually, in the festival of the ‘weeping for Adonis.’”

-M. Esther Harding, Woman’s Mysteries: Ancient and Modern