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No man has ever seen me naked.
He holds my waist and brings his lips to mine. Upon meeting, his lips burn a fire through me, and I melt.
He carries me to the stone of prayer and lays me down, holding my writhing body in place with the palm of his hand on my belly.
He parts my thighs with his other hand, and my mind races with desperate thoughts. Should I end this now and protect my sacred vows? Is there any hope of escaping this divine decree? I never asked for a lifetime of denying myself coition. It was forced upon me at age six. However, this - I want this.
I moan when he traces his tongue in my slit. Everything I deem to be my life collapses. I wonder why I’ve held myself to live a life of chastity without ever knowing actual pleasure. Death would have been preferable to never feeling a man's touch.
“Rhea,” Mars chuckles, playing with his weapon and then penetrating me with it hard.
“Lord Mars,” I gasp, clutching at the rocks beneath me as the pain intermingles with pleasure, rushing down my spine.
"You cannot escape me," he growls possessively. "I have claimed you for my own, and it cannot be recalled."
I want to be his, but I don't want to express it for fear of Vesta hearing me.
I tremble as Mars thrusts inside me like a true god, taking all he wants without thought.
Blood seeps down my leg, but I bite my lip, unable to speak as the wave of pleasure crashes over me. Life as a vestal virgin was in no way ordinary, but I could never have imagined this. I cling to Mars, my body responding to his touch in ways I never thought possible.
"You resisted. Why?" he asks, pulling back slightly to look into my eyes once we were done. "Do you fear losing your virginity? Or wish to keep your devotion to Vesta?"
"Both," I admit, my voice trembling with emotion. "I made a vow to Vesta, and I have never known a man's touch. I never believed I could betray my vows, but denying this yearning feels impossible."
Mars smiles warmly. "I am not a man,” he says, correcting me, “and you are not the first to have such desires, nor will you be the last." He leans in, brushing his lips against my ear. "Your life may never be easy, but you will never be alone."
With that, he thrusts inside me again, and stars burst forth within me. I clutch at his back, my nails digging into his flesh as he flips me over.
I turn and see the face of my dead brother, my usurped father. The goddess Vesta floats from the sky, wailing tears of fury. Except, it’s not tears that drip down her eyes. It’s my blood.
I scream.
I wake up with a jolt on my bed chamber floor, my heart racing like a wild beast, dread tightening my throat. I gasp for air, shaking as I struggle to discern dreams from reality.
Only a dream, memories from a ghastly night that shouldn’t have been.
"By the gods," I groan with pain. I can no longer deny the truth: my body is in the throes of labor, and the time has come to deliver the children Mars has forced upon me.
"Help me!" I cry out, clutching at my swollen belly. Panic threatens to consume me, for I know not how I shall bring forth life while preserving my sacred vows. Yet, as the contractions intensify, I realize I can only surrender to the process.
Fear for my own well-being and anxiety for a lot of my unborn son's tears at me. There’s no way for me to know truly, but I’ve dreamt of them, these two little boys. I hope they’ll be spared, even though I dread the changes they’ll bring.
"Be strong!" I urge myself, gritting my teeth against the searing pain. "Vesta herself chose you. Thou shalt not be forsaken."
Mars, the powerful deity whose desires set me on this path, seems equally distant and hauntingly present as I endure the physical torment of birth. I wonder what his intentions are for our children and whether they shall share his divine nature or walk among mortals.
"Curse thee, Mars," I grit my teeth, enraged at the night that put me in this searing pain. "Though thou hast brought this doom upon me, I shall not be defeated."
My cries of anguish draw the other vestal virgins, who rush to my aid with worried expressions and shouts for assistance.
"Rhea is in labor!" exclaims one, her normally serene countenance marred by worry. "She cannot face this alone!"
"Quickly now, sisters," commands another, taking charge. "We must offer our aid and our prayers."
I am comforted by their presence. Though they are bound by the same sacred vows I have taken, they have chosen to stand by me in this moment of vulnerability.
"Dear girl," murmurs one virgin gently, letting me lie on a cushion. “You are not alone in this ordeal. Draw strength from us.”
