Erotica Fantastica

She began to walk further, beyond the iron railings, through the gates and into the graveyard itself. She drifted spirit-like among the ancient graves, her torpid hands trailing across their rough, weather-hewn surfaces, her fingers connecting with the ancient moss that ornamented the place.

Often she would repose for some time across a particular grave where, as she stared with unseeing eyes at the moonlit sky, the shadow of its obelisk would lie across her, like a spirit-lover. Her body would grow aroused and she would writhe and twist, touching herself with trembling fingertips.

Through her nightdress her nipples felt hard, while between her legs she melted with desire. Cupping herself with her palm, she pressed hard against the place that ached to be touched and filled.

"Oh, oh, please come," she whispered to her spirit lover, and her body seemed almost to submerge itself into the stone of the grave as she found her release.

Sighing heavily, she rested there a while. When she showed herself that way she felt at peace, as if she could breathe more easily in that place when she revealed her sensual nature.

Tara felt no fear or concern when in these trances, only a listless detachment. But, if the awakening came, she lost that apathy and in its place experienced a heightened awareness of her vulnerability. Terrified, for several infinite moments she would be paralyzed, unable to react to the chill in her mind and body. When the torpor finally released her body, she would spring up from the grave and run, fast, as if she could escape the terror by outpacing it. But she still carried the waking fear within her, and as she ran between the dark shadows and gaunt monuments, the graveyard would become a maze, for it was never familiar when she fled from it in fear.

* * *

As time passed she found herself journeying further, into a place beyond the graveyard. After she wove her way through the great family mausoleums, she stepped beneath a narrow archway of overgrown foliage and found herself in the undergrowth and rock of a narrow subterranean ravine. It was a dark, rugged place, but unless she kept to one side of the narrowing passage, chinks of moonlight sometimes still fell upon her. It felt warm and inviting, for the damp smell seduced her senses, infusing her with the earthy scents of the fertile underworld.

Each night her journey lasted longer than before and consequently the awakening brought with it a more fearful journey in return. She had breached an unknown threshold into another world—a dark, mysterious place and it both enraptured and terrified her.

Then, one night, around the time her body had reached full maturity, that world finally made itself known to Tara.

She passed through the dark entry behind the graves and beyond the place that marked the end of human life. Neither asleep nor awake, she felt a deeply pleasurable detachment that encouraged her to enjoy the sensual stimulations provided along her path. The caress of long-forgotten leaves on her feet was stimulating, her body magnetized by the occasional catch of dried branch upon her nightdress or skin. She experienced these touches with a new awareness, and for the first time truly understood the cycle of nature.

She trailed her hands across the damp walls, and dense slime engulfed her fingers. She felt sacred, and languidly spread the rich juices of the place upon her face and eyelids, anointing herself with this lush, secret balm.

As she journeyed further along the labyrinthine corridors no moonlight lit her path, but an ethereal glow emanated from the walls, as if their rocky surfaces reflected her presence in the form of this strange luminescence. She needed no other light to guide her. With an eager hand she felt her way along the rock to one side. Light pin-pricks of sensation tickled at her fingertips. She felt only pleasure as the ancient stone and her flesh teased one another with their connection.

Deep in the cavern her body encountered trailing moss, delicate strands of spider webs and other caressing tentacles. She met the touches readily, entranced by their delicate embraces.

After a while she drifted to a halt and her body inclined against the rocky surface while she rested. The torpor deepened and for a time her c

onsciousness left her altogether. When her awareness altered again she felt a new presence and struggled against her lethargy to find out what touched her.

In time she perceived a large leaf upon her hand, covering her skin. Its tactile fleshiness moved over her numb skin, very slowly, arousing her flesh with its caress, a hard stem following the persuasive leaf. Its insidious path over her arm felt so good, so seductive. Although she could barely move, her consciousness wavering, she strained to see what was happening to her. The distinctive shape of large ivy leaves pressed against her nightdress. They moved quickly around her body, pulling the fabric of her nightgown apart as they did so.

Tara had never seen anything like it and her breath constricted in her lungs as the vine crept tighter around her.

The awakening came as suddenly as ever, but this time with a greater chill of fear. Icy terror filled her mind, froze the breath in her lungs. The vine's strengthening grip possessed her body totally. Fear clenched her heart. If she tried to move, the leaves tightened their hold.

There was no escape.

Tara heard herself scream aloud, and the sound seemed to turn her blood to stone.

She struggled long and hard against her captor, but in vain — it was far stronger than she. Exhausted, she hung in its grip and used the last of her strength to cry for help. Her mind still ran with fear and chaos. Am I going to die here in this place? Is that why I have always come here, because life's passage is always towards its end?

Her cries eventually wavered and quietened. She hung like a rag doll in the web of vines, wishing for the trance to take her again. She longed for its numbness, for it would bring a temporary escape from her trap.

When she calmed she sensed tenderness in the embrace of the ivy. It seemed to offer her gentle succor, even while it held her in its terrible grip. Its leaves strained towards her face. She could see the gloss of her own tears shining in their veins. It seemed to be trying to comfort her, as if in some strange way it understood her fear.

When her last shred of hope faltered she saw a light materialize, a strange gleaming oval that came towards her from somewhere within the labyrinth. Her senses began to revive. As the luminous blur got closer she saw it resembled a face, the face of a man. His eyes glowed. He carried no light, but his gaunt face shone, suspended in darkness. When he drew to a halt before her she became mesmerized by the fierce intensity in his eyes. He said nothing, but his gaze searched her face eagerly, as if to learn more about her. Then he reached out and unleashed one of her arms from the mighty grip of the ivy, taking her hand and caressing it, an action that both freed her and entrapped her anew.

With immense effort she spoke. "Who are you? What is this place?"

At first he did not answer. Smiling briefly, he continued to stroke away the vines. As his touch passed over her it enlivened her body with unfamiliar sensations.

Tara stood before him, uncovered. She could not draw her gaze from his strange face. His skin looked delicate, almost transparent, and it was laced with spindly veins close to the surface. A strange unearthly glow that came from within gave his skin a hue and texture like that found on the translucent surface of a pale orchid. His dark hair scrolled over his shoulder, like a wild creeping vine. He was like no other man she had seen before.

"Have you come to save me?"

His brow furrowed and she heard a deep resonant voice speak within her mind. "From what do you wish to be saved?"