Chapter 6: Aphrodite’s Sacred Grove

Evening, 1200 BCE, Sacred Grove of Paphos, Cyprus

The sacred grove of Paphos shimmered under a full moon, its light filtering through ancient olive trees, their silver leaves rustling in the breeze, the air thick with myrtle, sea salt, and the faint hum of a lyre played by invisible nymphs, the night sky above a deep indigo, flecked with stars, the year 1200 BCE a time of gods and mortals intertwined. Aphrodite (Eva Green), ageless, stood at the center of the grove, her golden skin glowing with divine light, her blonde hair cascading like a waterfall, adorned with myrtle wreaths, her body bare, heavy breasts swaying, pink nipples stiff, her golden bush framing a glistening slit, her blue eyes radiant with desire, her scent of roses and ambrosia an intoxicating lure, her voice a melody as she beckoned her worshippers, the moonlight casting her shadow on a seashell altar, the lyre’s melody a pulse, the night a stage for lust, divinity, and devotion, the grove’s mossy ground scattered with rose petals, the air charged with the promise of primal connection, the stars above a silent witness to her power.

High Priestess Kalliope (Gal Gadot), 30, knelt before the altar, her bronzed skin glowing in the moonlight, her dark hair unbound, adorned with seashells, her body bare, pert breasts high, brown nipples tight, her dark bush matted, her slit dripping, her green eyes wide with reverence, her voice a chant, “Goddess,” as she offered a bowl of honey, her role as priestess a sacred duty, her devotion a fire, the myrtle scent mixing with her own olive oil, her body a vessel, a surrender, the night a promise of primal connection, her fingers trembling as she clutched the bowl, the air thick with the promise of their shared ecstasy, the stars above a silent witness.

Young Initiate Daphne (Sadie Sink), 16, stood nearby, her pale skin shimmering in the moonlight, her auburn hair tied with ribbons, her body bare, small breasts perked, pink nipples stiff, her auburn bush glistening, her slit dripping, her brown eyes wide with awe, her voice a whisper, “My lady,” as she gazed at Aphrodite, her role as an initiate a new journey, her innocence a spark, the rose scent a veil, the lyre a distant hum, her body trembling with anticipation, the night a canvas for her awakening, the stars above a silent witness.

Devotee Arion (Regé-Jean Page), 25, stood by a cypress tree, his tanned body bare, his dark hair tied back, his cock hardening, his breath shallow, the scent of myrtle and sea salt mixing with his own sweat, his role to honor the goddess, his presence a silent witness, the moonlight casting his shadow on the ground, the lyre a backdrop to his racing heart, the night a divine spectacle, his gaze fixed on the trio, his body tense, his mind a whirl of reverence and desire, the grove a world of gods, the stars above a canopy to his longing, his hands steady, his chest heaving with each breath, the sight before him a sacred rite he could join, the air around him charged with their divinity, the night a tapestry of celestial beauty.

Aphrodite’s voice softened, her blue eyes on Kalliope, her hands sliding over her heavy breasts, fingers circling her pink nipples, her touch a divine spark, Kalliope’s chant trembling, “Goddess, bless us,” her slit dripping, the moonlight curling around her, the rose scent sharp in the warm night, her body trembling under Aphrodite’s gaze, her lips parted in a silent prayer. She rose, the moonlight parting, her slit glistening, her moan low, “Mmm,” as she approached Kalliope, Kalliope’s green eyes deepening, her devotion a pulse, the grove watching, voyeurs to her rite, Aphrodite’s grove a spell. Daphne shed her ribbons, her pale body bare, small breasts high, auburn bush soaked, her slit gaping, her brown eyes hungry, joining Kalliope on the mossy ground, her voice a whisper, “Let me worship,” her hands roaming Kalliope’s thighs, her scent of olive oil sharp, her body trembling, her innocence a fire, the rose scent a veil, the lyre a distant hum, her auburn hair catching the light, her skin flushed with arousal, her fingers digging into Kalliope’s flesh, her breath hot against Kalliope’s skin, her own slit dripping onto the moss, her body aching for Aphrodite’s blessing, the night a canvas for their shared desire.

Aphrodite leaned down, her heavy breasts heaving, her slit dripping, her rose scent sharp, as she guided Daphne’s mouth to Kalliope’s slit, the act a blessing, Daphne’s moan muffled, “Mmm, so sweet,” as she sucked, her tongue lapping at Kalliope’s juices, her hands roaming Kalliope’s thighs, her slit dripping, her auburn bush soaked, her asshole twitching, the moss soft beneath them, the lyre a rhythm, the night a tapestry of lust, love, connection, Arion’s eyes wide, his breath hitching, the divine sight a fire in his blood, the stars above a silent judge, his body trembling with longing, the air around him thick with their shared ecstasy. Aphrodite retrieved a polished seashell dildo from the altar, its surface smooth, glistening with myrtle-scented oil, its scent earthy, divine, her voice a melody, “For you, my priestess,” her eyes on Kalliope, her hands guiding her closer, Kalliope’s gasp loud, “Oh goddess,” her slit dripping, her dark bush soaked, her asshole stretched, the moss soft beneath her, the lyre a distant rhythm, the night a tapestry of lust, divinity, connection, Arion’s gaze locked, his cock throbbing, his breath ragged, the sight a divine dream, the grove a temple of lust, the stars above a witness to his reverence, the air around him thick with their moans.

Aphrodite slid the seashell dildo into Kalliope’s slit, the smooth shell stretching her, fucking her slow, then hard, the myrtle-scented oil slick, Kalliope’s juices squirting, her moan raw, “Oh gods, deeper,” her slit gaping around the shell, her body trembling, her pleasure a divine edge, the moonlight a witness, the night a blaze of primal connection, their bond a hymn to Aphrodite’s power, Arion’s hands trembling, his breath a gasp, the sight a divine fire, the stars above a silent witness, the air around him charged with their moans. Aphrodite reached for a clay lamp on the altar, its beeswax melted from the flame, the warm golden liquid pooling, its honeyed scent mixing with myrtle, her fingers dipping into the hot wax, her voice a melody, “Feel this, my child,” as she dripped the wax onto Daphne’s small breasts, the heat searing, Daphne’s scream sharp, “Oh fuck, it burns,” her slit dripping harder, her juices splattering onto the moss, her auburn bush matted, her asshole clenching, the sensation a fiery contrast to the cool night air, the moonlight harsh, the lyre a sultry echo, the air thick with musk, wax, desire, the wax cooling into golden trails on her skin, her body shuddering with each drop, her pleasure heightened by the pain, her moans echoing through the grove, the night a blaze of primal connection.

Aphrodite turned to Kalliope, her fingers dipping into the wax again, dripping it onto her thighs, the heat searing, Kalliope’s scream louder, “Oh goddess, yes,” her slit throbbing around the dildo, her body trembling, the wax cooling into golden trails, her pleasure a divine edge, Aphrodite’s fingers plunging into her own slit, stretching herself, her scream ethereal, “Oh fuck, it burns,” the dual sensations of wax and self-pleasure overwhelming, her divinity a fire, the rose scent a sultry pulse, the moonlight flickering, the lyre a distant echo, her blonde hair a cascade, her golden skin marked with wax, her body arching under her own touch, her slit dripping onto the moss, her moans a celestial song, the night a canvas for their shared desire. Kalliope pulled the dildo from her slit, its shell slick with her juices, and slid it into Aphrodite’s slit, the shell stretching her, fucking her hard, Aphrodite’s scream loud, “Oh yes,” her clit throbbing, her juices squirting, her heavy breasts bouncing, her rose scent sharp, her nails digging into the moss, the moonlight a witness, the night a blaze of primal connection, their bond a hymn to the goddess, Arion’s gaze locked, the sight of the wax a new torment, his breath ragged, the grove a temple of lust, the stars above a silent judge, his body trembling with the weight of their divinity, the air around him thick with their shared ecstasy.