A remembrance of time, stretching back in my mind with crystal resonance. Like the gorgon of old, or perhaps more a distant cousin. One special look could turn you to ash. She knew her gift. She knew it well. She used her blazen intents to her best advantages.

By occupation she was a dancer. Revered by her patrons like no other. They followed her like a cult. Her movements magical. Skin like honey. Lips quivering with lust. Eyes that burned; but only as much as she allowed, and only where she wanted. To be scarred by her was truly a gift from a goddess.

The scars were all similar: raised skin in the shape of a sun or spider, or maybe a deformed octopus. In proximity to her presence, it burned. The pain was nothing to be abhorred. The tentacles radiated outwards in ripples of tingling heat. The closer you were, the more intense the pulsing. It became an orgasm onto itself, if you could bear it. She knew you by the sweat beading on your face. Those who were marked could never hide. They were proud. And by obvious coincidence, this elite group happened to be the biggest spenders.

Like so many beautiful women, she liked to spend money, and she liked money spent on her. I zealously catered to those whims. Not a night went by that she did not wear a piece of jewelry or article of clothing that I had bestowed upon her. These were the offerings to our goddess. It's not that these trinkets enhanced her beauty, it was more like the diamonds sparkled more brilliantly when worn by her. Fact be known, diamonds were her favorite. The stones seemed to absorb a radiance from her skin. She glowed with seduction.

The last time I saw her she wore a favorite choker of mine. It dripped down her chest in a mock cascade of sacred semen. Those with the mark succumbed within moments, showering her with monetary gratitude. I was once like those neo-lusts, unable to control my fluids. Over time I grew stronger, able to resist longer. In the end, privately, obtaining a higher pleasure. It was seven weeks to the day. Evening descended with a warm summer rain. I walked the few blocks to the hidden club. The password whispered, and the door opened. I smelled her immediately, above the stench of male libido. I took a lungful, closed my eyes, and crossed the threshold. I made my way through the smoke, crossing over moans. The place was alive with lust. Upon my entry, the staff moved to prepare for my night. Without hesitation, my table was cleared and a fresh blue martini waited for me. I sat, I sipped, and then raised my eyes to the stage. All my senses were immediately bombarded with rhythms of erotica. My goddess with the eyes of fire swung around the center pole. This night her hair was blazen red. Tattered red leather peeled off her moist skin. She ripped at the hides with flaming nails. These sizzling strips of flesh she flung to the highest bidder or a newcomer. I had a whole wardrobe of such exquisite debris. The smell of her sweat on the shards of skin was intoxicating. She torched the toupee' off a guy three tables down. She was getting closer, but she wouldn't acknowledge me. I could feel her heat. She moved like the vapor emanating from her body. She slithered behind my chair, burning holes in the back of my head. Her hands slid over my scalp. I began to melt. My scars burned with hungered passion. I was drenched in sweat. The hypnotic thundering of the music took control of my heart. In pounded against my ribcage. I turned, she moved out of sight. She whispered in my ear, 'It's been so long, Azriel. You should not have kept me waiting.'� I felt her accusations reverberate off every syllable. I had betrayed her. As if we were the only two entities in the room, she sat on the table and looked into my eyes. Like eclipsed suns, her eyes held me with wonder. Sweat ran down into my tears and clouded my vision. I opened my mouth to begin my apology, realizing I was blind. I could smell my flesh cooking with tenacious fury. Heaven and hell in one body, and I had betrayed her. I heard small bubbles burst beneath my face. It was too late to scream. No one could help me. I deserved this death. I was honored by it.

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