Cyra's Cyclopes (3 page)

“Teha, as I clear the path, I’ll set
aside anything that could be used as the pole of a thyrsus. There’s
always someone who forgets to bring their own. And, don’t forget,
men are now allowed to attend and they often don’t carry one with
them, although want one as the evening progresses.”

“Men shouldn’t be allowed to attend.
The Great Dionysian events belong to us women only. I don’t see why
they’d want to come, but I’m sure Dionysus has his reasons for
being so generous. He’d never do anything wrong, I can feel it in
my bones. Cyra, go ahead and set them to the side of the path, and
then you can bring them back with you. If I end up with time to
make more, I can easily find them.” The other woman walked over to
her table and started weaving wreaths of ivy for the women to
wear.

“Thank you, my dear friend. I needed
to be rescued from Teha and her bones,” she confessed as they made
their way down the main path and then on to the one that led down
the side of the temple.

They walked slowly, picking up
larger branches and sticks along the way, and set down the bundles
when they grew large. As there was quite a bit of fallen wood to
collect, Cyra decided she’d come back for them once she’d
determined the preparation status of the bonfire. It may give her
more work, but she was fine with that. She looked forward to the
time to talk with Filla.

The first thing she wanted to find
out was what she’d been up to.

“No one can hear us here. Tell me,
where have you been?”

“Teha was right. At the last event,
I connected with a satyr, and he took me up into the mountains on
the coast to his place. He did the most amazing things too me and
with me. I never wanted to leave, but he brought me back for the
big spring festival.”

“Everything all right?” Cyra knew
that while Cyclopes were considered mean giants, the satyrs were
generally viewed as harmless, although led by their cocks. She
would hate to hear her friend had experienced anything other than
pleasure with the satyr. Her friend definitely deserved the very
best life had to offer, because it hadn’t been all that kind to her
yet.

“Better than all right and you can
meet him later tonight. I told him all about my friend and he’s
looking forward to meeting you.” Filla was almost skipping down the
path she was so happy, although the comment brought something to
mind that she needed to set straight immediately.

“I adore you, Filla, but I won’t
participate in a ménage with your satyr.”

“We have before,” the other woman
claimed with a giggle.

“Yes, but it’s obvious that he means
something to you, and that changes everything for me.” When it came
to the heart being involved, sex was different. There was no way
she’d be able to share her lovers with anyone. Even if she was no
longer with them, she couldn’t watch them with another
woman.

“Okay, I can’t believe I’m saying
this, but Teha was right. You have changed. What did she mean when
she said you hadn’t been around? That isn’t like you, unless you’ve
found someone special as well. I know you haven’t been looking for
anyone, but isn’t that when you find someone?”

Looking over her shoulder, Cyra
figured no one was close enough to hear them, and decided to
confide in her friend. It might help her to figure the mess that
was her love life if someone else heard the details. She was too
involved to feel like she could make any type of decision and it
was time one was made.

After taking a deep breath, she kept
walking and picking up branches, and let it all come
out.

“It’s a bit of a mess, but the
basics are that I’m in love with three Cyclopes. They haven’t told
me how they feel about me or if they want to take it beyond the
sex. By the way, the sex is incredible. I’ve been spending so much
time with them, learning and enjoying their individuality that I
haven’t spent time here at the temple. My loyalty to our beloved
Dionysus is being overtaken by my love for them and they aren’t
even asking for it. I don’t know what to think anymore, Filla. Is
my passion leading me astray?”

“Cyclopes?” Setting her latest
bundle of sticks down, Cyra turned to look at her friend, and
discovered she appeared surprised by her confession. The whisper
was also a good indication of how unexpected her declaration had
been. The other woman must believe their rumored reputations were
true and yet she knew they weren’t, at least not for Brontes,
Agres, and Steropes.

“Yes, maybe my three are different
from the other giants, but they aren’t mean like people believe.
They work with Hephaestus, god of the forge. Maybe being around
important immortals and humans gentled them, but all I see are kind
and tender men who would do anything for me. They also happen to be
beautiful, inside and out.”

“Beautiful? Cyclopes?” Filla didn’t
sound convinced of how she felt about her men, but she kept
talking, no longer caring if she understood her desire for them or
not.

They’d made it around to the back of
the temple where the path meandered past the stage and eventually
ended in the circle kept for external ceremonies and celebrations.
Large stones had been brought in to act as seating and were also
used for sex. In the circle rested a pile of wooden planks, ready
to be the centerpiece for the festival.

Looking around the space, Cyra was
reminded of the various people she’d been with on the same rocks
and none of it had meant anything to her. Being with her lovers
meant everything to her and an image of them flashed before her
eyes. They were naked, light brown hair tousled, muscles straining
and she wanted them.

Stopping on the path, she turned to
Filla, and told her what was on her mind.

“Oh yes. They possess the finest
forms I’ve ever seen on a living being. It’s from all the hard
physical labor they do. Tall, broad shoulders, slim hipped, and
packed with muscles. Did you know, other than their heads, they
have no hair on them? They take it all off as a precaution to being
around the blazing fires. Look at me? I just have to think of their
fine forms and gorgeous single eyes focused entirely on me, and my
body prepares itself for them.”

Cyra ran her free hand across her
breast and the hard tipped nipple marking its excitement, over her
stomach, and ended by lightly cupping her pussy through her peplos.
“Just thinking about them and I’m panting with need for them and
their touch.”

“But they’re cruel a—”

“They aren’t, but tell me the truth.
Do you think I’ve made a mistake giving my heart to them?” Cyra
felt the tears start to gather and prepare to spill down her
cheeks.

It wasn’t what she wanted to
believe, but maybe she did have blinders on when it came to her
Cyclopes. Life was about more than being sexually gratified and
they did offer her more than that. They made her feel complete as a
woman and as if all her hopes and dreams for the future were
possible. Except her heart was breaking because they didn’t claim
her as she wanted them to.

“Hold on, don’t make any rash
decisions yet. Let me get over my shock at hearing you have fallen
in love with a Cyclops. Sorry, three Cyclopes. That’s big news that
can’t be glossed over. It was three, right?”

“Brontes, Agres, and Steropes. They
add the thunder, brightening, and flashing to the bolts Hephaestus
builds for Zeus.”

“I’ve heard of them and know they’re
very important to the immortals.”

“Yes, they are, and the work they do
is dangerous. I worry about all of them.”

“I’m sorry, Cyra, I allowed my
prejudices to overwhelm me, but I did listen to every word you
said. I think you answered your own question. They’re a part of
you. Your heart resides in their hands. You can’t walk away from
that and remain whole.”

“But they haven’t asked me to stay
either.”

“Maybe they need more time to figure
out what they’re feeling. I imagine they haven’t experienced much
love in their lives and don’t know what it is or what to do with
it.”

“You could be right, Filla. However,
there’s another problem. While one side of me is blissfully happy,
the other feels like I’m betraying Dionysus.”

“Let me see if I have this right.
You’ve been busy falling in love and haven’t shown up here to help
around the naos. Trust me, my friend, that isn’t being disloyal,
that’s called having a life. Up until now, you gave yourself to the
god of wine and theater in recognition for your family’s survival,
and they have. It’s time for you to live for yourself. You’re here
for the celebration and can renew your appreciation to Dionysus
tonight, but you don’t have to give your life over to him. Like
Teha, I think that’s taking devotion to a god too far.”

“You’re right, my friend. Since I
met my men, I haven’t spared much thought for him, and I feel a
great deal of guilt over that remission. Remember, it was here that
I dedicated my life to serving him and his followers, and I
failed.”

“The god known for parties and
merriment wouldn’t hold your finding happiness against
you.”

“Maybe.” Despite the talking it
through with her friend, she decided she was no better off for
it.

It wasn’t the other woman’s fault,
because nothing had changed. She still felt guilty for abandoning
her god and while she wanted to stay with her lovers, they’d given
her no sign that they wanted anything more than to keep her around
for sex. That had been fine for a period of time, only they’d made
her want more from their relationship. If they weren’t willing to
make more of a commitment then she’d cut her losses and
leave.

Picking up a few more branches, Cyra
realized she’d been wrong, something had changed, and it was
her.

Being with the brothers had opened
her eyes to see there was more to her life than devoting it to
Dionysus. While she wanted to be with the brothers, if they didn’t
want to be with her, she’d find her way through the pain, and be
thankful for what they had given her.

Cyra had an awareness of what life
had to offer her. With peace of mind established, she dived back
into the essence of the day. It was going to be a celebration of
life and she was ready to enjoy.

“Come on, let’s get all our chores
done, and start partying.”

The sun had set, dancing had turned
frenetic, and the debauchery had begun in earnest.

Cyra looked around at the celebrants
to ensure no one lacked for anything. As yet, she hadn’t felt the
urge to jump into the center of the festivities as she normally
would, instead she stood back and took in the celebration from a
different view. From the very start of the event, it had become
obvious she didn’t want to be there, but stayed for a chance to
speak with Dionysus.

She couldn’t turn her back on him,
not when he had done so much for her and her family. Something had
changed in her and, whether she stayed with the brothers or not,
giving her life to the god of wine wasn’t enough for her. Not any
longer.

At the start of the event, she’d
been busy supplying wine to everyone as they arrived, but hadn’t
bothered to partake herself. That was a first for her and the
reason was simple. Wine wasn’t something she wanted.

Another thing that told her she was
no longer able to involve herself as a disciple should was that,
while she had put a wreath on her head, the fawn skin and thyrsus
Teha tried to give her were ignored. The older woman hadn’t been
happy about it and she’d felt her staring daggers into her ever
since. Ignoring the anger was easy because it was the first time
she’d been able to take in all aspects of the annual festival with
a clear view and it was entrancing in a terrifying way.

Normally she’d be too much a part of
the action to notice how raw and horrific the activity actually
was.

The first thing she tuned into was
the variety of sounds emanating from the celebrants. Pipes,
cymbals, and drums offered nothing of musical value and when
screeching, screaming, and sounds of mass fucking were added, it
became almost ugly. None of it resembled the beautiful musical
outpourings of devotion she’d always thought they were. Maybe she’d
focused more on the instruments being played because the horror of
what people were doing and having done to them was what shocked her
most.

Satyrs, centaurs, and other seleni,
drunken followers, were laughing maniacally and having sex with
whomever they could get a hold of. Multiple partners or between two
people, it was being played out before her, with all the grunts,
moans, and screams that went along with the act, but none of the
joy she attached to being with her Cyclopes.

Some participants seemed to enjoy
the physical attention, others sounded like they didn’t want any
part of it, and then there were a few that were obviously being
forced. Those bothered her the most, but she didn’t know what to do
about it. Running into the middle of a group of people madly
fucking in order to rescue someone who possibly didn’t want to be
there may turn anger on her and she knew what happened in such
cases.

While a major part of the annual
celebration, the most disturbing aspect was the sacrifices that
took place off to the side. They were supposed to be animals,
although she knew there’d been actual humans torn apart and eaten
by maddened devotees.