A garden on devious delights

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A garden on devious delights - 6/2/2010 2:03:05 PM

torturegarden

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The air was cool and fresh from the downpour that had only just relented as Alice stepped gingerly through the black Iron Gate. Instantly the soft scent of the flowers filled her nose and warmed her spirit. To her left the walled garden descended sharply down a steep bank to the lake and pagoda where as a child she had played though today she sought different delights and headed straight ahead through the low beds to the manicured wilderness of the wood. With a smile she set off slowly taking in the bright colours and quiet beauty of the world around her and soon was lost in a sense of enraptured bliss. Despite the rain the cobbled path offered her sure footing and only as she entered the canopy of the wood did she feel the need for care to avoid the brown leaves sacrificed to the storm. As she wandered aimlessly she felt time slip away and in retrospect might have missed him all together if it hadn't been for the wriggled writhing of his helpless body. She guessed he was in his early twenties with a thin angular face and clear blue eyes which were now close to tears. His body was a contorted knot of misery hanging suspended from the thick branch of an ancient oak. He was beautifully bound in dark purple rope which forced his hands into prayer behind his back and brought his feet coiled up his back drawing his spine like a bow. His muscles quivered under the strain of the position and his breath had swallowed to a whimper partly through the prolonged stress on his body and partly due to the goddess who stood before him drinking in his suffering. With a casual smile she ran her finger the length of his torso feeling him quiver at her touch and then with a gentle push set him to swing. As she watched she was struck that in an odd way there was something utterly natural about his helpless plight and futile struggle set here against the beauty and brutality of nature. For a moment more she drank in his tears, his sobs and the pleading in his eyes for her to release him and then feeling satisfied and content she set off to discover the other devious pleasures the garden had to offer.

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RE: A garden on devious delights - 6/11/2010 1:12:37 PM

torturegarden

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The sweet scent of wet leather filled his nostrils as the waterfalls cold water turreted down upon him to take his breath away. Bound as he was, shaped as those crucified, suspended beneath its unrelenting flow, he could not escape. His screams had become whimpers as his muscles relented to numbness and now shaking uncontrollably he begged for release. In moments of weakness he yearned for her to come to him, to see her smile, to smell her perfume, to feel her hands upon his flesh. Perhaps she had forgotten him and that he would never again feel the blessing of her presence or her gentle breath upon his neck. Only time would tell and he could but wait, lonely and alone in her garden.

(in reply to torturegarden)

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