I step out of the pavilion into the camp. Everything’s going well here. Zeus is me, Hades is me, Zagreus is me. On the other, I’ve fucked her countless times and she keeps coming back for more. But a part of her does know. She has a slight frame, delightful little tits and a bald cunt. I have the priests tell my serving girls they have to be naked for reasons of religious devotion, but that’s bullshit. The main theme, of course, is my thick cock beating a pounding rhythm in her cunt. Mortal girls don’t generally enjoy that, but I do. Eurydice was whisked back to the underworld and he emerged straight into the arms of my maenads. I like satyrs a lot more than mortals. She does things with yarn that leave permanent scars. Some of the nymphs are like the innocent I left to be tortured by Ariadne. If she was a mortal girl who’d strayed into my camp I’d rape her just the same. Zeus is me, Hades is me, Zagreus is me. My love for the maenads isn’t simple lust. It was the doubt, the temptation! Orpheus looked back because he didn’t want to live happily ever after; he wanted to be the perfect tragic figure – heroic, defeated, tortured.
