12274/15 Fears: The Second Circle - The Storm of Lust

15 Fears: The Second Circle - The Storm of Lust
Date of Scene:	31 July 2022
Location:	Hell
Synopsis:	Jon finds himself in the Second Circle of Hell. After meeting with the Lord of this Circle, Mammon, Jon is given a bit of vacation in the Hellish palace of Carnal Desire where the demons and devils are fascinated by the nature of an asexual in their company.
Cast of Characters:	Chas Chandler, Jonathan Sims

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Chas Chandler has posed:
    Jon is carried, gently by the pair of demons who found him through over the plain of the Second Circle. The skies open up not far from their arrival point and a deluge of rain falls down around them. Suprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, the rain doesn't touch the three of them, evaporating to nothing as they walk. At first, this clearly astonished the demons. The male of them pointing it out to the female who laughed but scrutinized Jon with a very deliberate look in her eyes. Like someone seeing a toy they want terribly.

    The wind starts up not long into their trek. Howling and buffetting winds that blow haphazardly sweep across the lands. Jon watches as a pair cling to each other before they are grabbed up in a whirlwind that carries their screaming forms across the landscape depositing them who knows where and in who knows what shape.

    The storm rages as they approach an obelisk and temple a few hours walk from the divide between Circles.

    The wind still howls but sounds distant and forgotten within the smoke filled temple. As the trio travel, Jon is able to see couples engaged in all manner of carnal acts. Demons with humans, demons with demons, humans with humans all writhing in a pile of bodies among one another lining the central walkway toward a throne where sits one of the Fallen.

    Lord Mamon, another of Lucifer's top lieutenants from The Fall, sits looking bored as he watches a beautiful human woman dance before him. He, like all his bretheren is handsome beyond words with strong shoulders and a roguish face. The woman before him moves with grace and form that speaks of professional ability, twirling and bending her body in shapes that speak of great agility and flexibility. When she finishes he waves her away, where a pair of demons move forward and drag her away to be swallowed once more by the pit of bodies.

    As Jon and his escorts move forward he leans in, looking surprised. "And so the Archivist finally comes to my doorstep. Very good, Caesar and Lucrezia. Please, see that he is comfortable. I am certain the Hound put him through a terrible ordeal." A pile of cushions and pillows is spread out and Jon set upon it before the lord of the Second Circle. "Tell me, Archivist... what do you think of my domain. Decadent, isn't it?" he asks with a smile.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    There's a common misperception that asexual people are necessarily prudes. That not only do they not engage in sex, but they disapprove of the whole business entirely. The truth is much more complicated. There are ace people who have and enjoy sex, though usually not with anything like the frequency most people do. There are ace people who don't really care one way or another, and those who avoid sex altogether. But for the most part, even the latter category find /other people's/ pursuit of carnal pleasure more of a baffling oddity than anything to be judged or hated. This differs with cultural context, of course, and you definitely do get sex-hating prudes among asexuals, but for the most part people who actively embrace the label just don't... care all that much.

    Jon, for the most part, doesn't really care. He's had sex before--obviously, or he couldn't have conceived a child. He'll even admit, if mostly to himself, that it /did/ feel good, and his main issue was just that he'd been coerced into the whole business. Maybe, /maybe/ if he'd fallen in love with someone who wanted sex he'd figure out precisely where all his boundaries lie, what he'd be willing to do and what he isn't. As it is, though, it just isn't anything he cares about enough to go through the hassle of figuring out. Why bother when he's perfectly content with cuddling and kissing? It would be like trying to figure out what kind of car he likes to drive best when he doesn't know how to drive and isn't sure he really needs to bother learning.

    But, see, if /other/ people want to do things he doesn't do, like drive cars? Or, in this instance, have sex? Even have a lot of it, in writhing piles on the floor? Well... more power to them, he supposes. As he's carried through the temple, he even peers at a few groups in vague fascination. How are they even... contorting into such shapes? /Why/ are they contorting themselves into such shapes? Does that actually make things more pleasurable, or is it a challenge? He can respect a challenge. And he can appreciate good dancing, too, so the /dancer/ gets more of his attention than any of the others in the place.

    Jon /wants/ very much to just fall asleep right there in the pile of cushions, but a vague wariness settles over him as he's presented to the Fallen. "Decadent's a word for it, yes," he says. "Indulgent, any manner of other words. I'm sure you can tell I don't really... belong here, hmm?"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    "Indeed, I can" Mamon says to Jon with the same smile. "Which is -precisely- why I am going to keep you here... for a time" he replies. "You see... you present an oddity. A novel idea to those who reside here. And thus I propose an experiment. You will be taken from my chambers and placed in one of several guest rooms. There we will tend to your physical needs. Wounds will be dressed, hungers sated, I've even prepared for wine and tobacco for your use, and a lovely creature for you to draw one of those 'statements' you so require."

    He leans closer, towering over Jon from his raised pedestal and his smile widens. "And then... I will let the members of my court experiment on you. I think it will be quite entertaining to see you rebuke and turn them aside as they throw themselves at you in any manner of ways."

    He leans back, the smile staying in place, "Even if you don't break under their attentions... their pitiful looks as you send them from your quarters time and time again will at the very least be hilarious and laughter is in short supply in these carnal grounds where the moans, groans, and screams echo from hall to hall."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sighs. "Yes, well, couldn't let me out a year /early/, could you?" It's said softly, more grumbling to themself than anything. They peer up at the Fallen and consider that for a moment.

    "I don't really have any other /choice/, do I?" A pause. "I won't be... ahh... forced or coerced into anything? You're just throwing demons at me to see if any of them can entice the asexual man?"

    Suddenly he smirks. "That... /is/ pretty funny. Although mostly because the concept of living for that /one/ thing and one thing only--I can definitely seduce /any/ man!--is amusing. So long as there are no... shenanigans. No spiked drinks or drugged food, no mind magic. It wouldn't exactly be a fair contest otherwise, would it?"

    Another sigh, and he closes his eyes. "I'm quite grateful for the hospitality in general," he adds.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    "Of course not, Archivist. Where would the challenge be if you lost your mind to any number of illicit substances" Mamon replies. "We are, all of us, sporting folk." There is a bubble of laughter from the gathered demons at the double entendre of 'sporting.' "Now... I will bid you adeiu so you can fully recover and be treated as one of our honored."

    The Fallen king crosses his legs casually and gestures in dismissal. Lucrezia and Caesar move forward and once again help him--read, carry--from the throne room. He is carted down a side corridor, the sounds of sensual activities still permeating the air even in this unoccupied hall and then to a lavishly adorned bedroom suite.

    The next several days are likely a blur. Jon's injuries are tended to as is the physical cares of his body. He is waited on by a number of physically appealing--if only aesthetically--creatures both mythic and mundane. All in all, Jon is treated like royalty in this land that fills Dante's "canto of queens" and in little time he is back to full health.

    The first "attack" comes the first morning after he is fully healed. He is being served breakfast by a demure, pretty young woman. Her features are soft and her general overall nature kind and polite. This isn't the first time Jon's been served by this woman. She was actually his physician while he was recovering and while Jon has questions about her actual species, since she started assisting him she has looked more or less human. Her name is Diana.

    After fixing him a cup of morning tea (in -just- the manner he likes it) with a meal that is every bit of a Traditional English Breakfast, she does something different than her usual routine. Instead of checking his bandages and changing the dressing on his wounds she kneels at his feet. Her gown is a diaphanous white number that conceals as much as it hints at her lithe but athletic figure. "How may I futher serve my, lord Archivist?" she asks, looking up at him with a gaze of adoration and care.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon goes ahead and lets himself enjoy the time healing and resting. It's literally been years since he slept in a bed, let alone had /tea/ and proper food. He is, in fact, that morning, so focused on the tea that he barely even notices the demoness kneeling at his feet at first. He sits and inhales the scent, takes a long drink, then sets it aside and sees to dipping his toast in a slightly runny yolk of egg.

    He's halfway through chewing the bite of toast when he finally notices the kneeling demon. "Ahh..." Chew, swallow, frown. "I think... there's a pot of tea, right? And, please, it's just 'Archivist,' not 'Lord,' you don't need to--"

    Something finally clicks in his head, and he laughs suddenly. "Oh. /Oh/. Oh, you're trying to... oh, good lord." He shakes his head. "Look, why don't you go have a break and come back and try again once I've eaten?" He lifts the toast. "I'm pretty sure even if I /was/ interested not much would get in the way of breakfast."

    Do people actually set aside their meals to have sex? That seems... weird. Why would you do that?

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Diana rises, bows, and offers a soft, "As you wish, my Lord Archivist" as demurely as usual, pointedly ignoring his instructions. There is a bit more sway in her hip as she leaves and Jon's telepathic field can pick up waves of irritation and frustration coming from the creature as if his lack of interest harmed her.

    When Jon indicates he is finished a different creature comes to pick it up. A male this time; Jon's interests were already known to the Fallen lord of this Circle. He is dressed in a similar diaphonous gown-like material and walks with a very arrogant air about him. It might come to Jon's attention that he is everything the woman was not: tall (close to Jon's own height) to her short, well built to her trim frame, and confident in his position to her demure submissgiveness.

    He takes the tray and it's meal and asks. "Lord Mammon has instructed us to give you free reign of the palace today, my Lord Archivist. This opens a number of possibilities for you. You can tour the grounds, viewing or engaging in any number of activities. You can go to the viewing deck to observe those thrashed by the storm outside, or" he pauses and turn eyes that shimmer and sparkle like opals on Jon, "you may stay in here and I can service you in any number of ways to your heart's content."

    Another shift in tactics it would seem. Instead of the woman's hint, this creature is very forward in his interests. Perhaps they are testing the boundaries to see where the outside lines are for the asexual being in their lustful midsts.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon reaches up a hand to rub at his face. He hadn't bothered watching Diana go, focusing instead on his food. Now, he looks up and says, quite calmly, "A tour of the grounds might be nice. If I'm going to be here for an entire year it'd be nice to know my way around."

    He gets to his feet, and adds, casually, "Does that actually /work/? I mean, just... presenting yourself as if your mere presence is supposed to excite something. I thought there's supposed to be a whole... song-and-dance. Candles and music, musky scents, what-have-you."

    They glance up at the demon, raising a brow. "My physical preferences are not a combination lock, after all. The key here is that I don't /have/ any. At all. Is that really so difficult to understand?"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    "As you wish, my Lord" the man says and moves to offer to help Jon from his position in bed. He pauses at the question. "You will find that many in this realm will find your lack of enthusiam at our appearance to be... enticing, my Lord" he replies. "Many of those who have come as honored guests at Mammon's invite are more eager to engage in all manners of decadence and indulgence. While your arrival was not at his invite it was still... expected."

    Once Jon rises, the servant moves to a closet in the room and withdraws a heavier robe of deep ruddy crimson. He offers it to Jon to slip into and continues. "Most come with the interest fires already warm. They have expectations; desires that we can fulfil. They let us know their intentions openly with or without vocal support. So yes... often it -does- actually work."

    Regardless of whether Jon takes the offered robe or not, they make their way into the hall beyond Jon's quarters. This is the first chance Jon's had to fully take in the decor. The decadence is almost sickening in its blatant display. Tapestries, paintings, and scultures in the hall are all depcitions of carnal indulgence in one form or another. A paricularly eye catching piece looks like a stipling piece of some abstract idea but as the eye unfocuses and takes in the scope of the piece it's clear it depicts an orgy one thousand strong.

    They make their way out of the art colored hall and out onto a covered balcony. The wind here is visible, tormented spirits scream and are carried by the turbulence beyond but the sounds are muffled and distant despite being just beyond the palace grounds. "While asexual proclivities are not unknown to us. They are not often seen here. The ferryman does his best to avoid interaction with our realm for those not destined for it and so we meet only those who -wish- to come. You are a novelty... not meant for us and yet presented for us."

    He stops and regards Jon, as a whirlwind of hundreds of souls twists its way around the grounds of the palace. "It's not that hard to understand. View it through the lense of food. If you were given an opportunity to try a dish that has the makeup of your favorite meal... but prepared in a way unlike anything you've had before. Would it not draw your eye from the sheer possibilities that could lie in it?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon takes the robe, and chuckles. "I have plenty of desires you could fulfill--but none of them have much to do with the usual goings-on of this place. I might enjoy music or dancing that you'd usually intend for seduction. I've certainly enjoyed the food and drink. And if anyone here is given to long discussions about philosophy or art or history... well. That would definitely hold my attention."

    He peers out at the turbulent winds beyond. "I understand the metaphor. Trust me--I get what you're saying. The place your metaphor falls down is that I don't /have/ a 'favorite meal' in the sense you're talking about. I've known people who treat food entirely as fuel, who probably wouldn't bother eating if they didn't /have/ to eat. Food just holds no interest for them. I don't entirely understand it, myself--I /love/ food, from preparation to presentation to the actual business of eating. But I suppose someone who loves sex enough to, say, get involved in creating erotica wouldn't understand my lack of interest in that function, either."

    He sighs, watching poor souls battered by the winds. "I've had several friends in the past who seemed, to me, unduly preoccupied with the whole business. I've come around to the idea that they're enjoying themselves, so what does it matter, really? So long as nobody's getting hurt. It's when someone's getting hurt that there are problems."

    They frown, gaze going distant. "I... I've never doubted that I'm asexual. I just never had the same kind of interests other boys my age did. People tended to assume I was gay." They swallow. "But I do have to admit, perhaps some of my issues come from..." A pause. "I was raped. By other boys who thought they'd show me what being a--what being 'gay' would mean. And then... in the Eye of Ra, it was... there were drugs. Mind control. Conceiving Agnes was... pleasant, compared to some of what I went through, there."

    They press a hand to their chest, swallowing. They've never really talked about any of that before, not even to their therapist. It never does manage to come out. "Sometimes I wonder what it might be like, if all that hadn't happened. Maybe I'd still just not be interested at all, you know? Maybe I would. It's hard to say. Who would I be without my trauma?"

    A pause, and then a smirk. "Probably still more interested in conversation, truth be told. I've never really had the drive."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The servant--he still hasn't given his name--nods. "Of course. It's not all sex with no commitment here" he says looking out over at the souls buffeted about by the constant storm. "Several of those suffering here are twins bound in their eternal bond. Secretive in their trysts--thus the sin in their actions--but their love was no less real. And so here they are forever bound together in suffering. I believe the vow is, 'for better or for worse'" he smiles at the souls. "This is very much for the worse, but at least they are together here. There is a sense of poetic sweetness in its own way."

    It may dawn on Jon, that there is more to this servant than meets the eye. More power than was in the demoness that was serving them before. He looks to Jon and smiles a wide toothy. "You know... you may find that many of those here would be perfectly comfortable offering respite to one who seeks it. We are not so callous so as to avoid pillow talk in its various forms."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Does the 'pillow talk' have to be on a pillow? Or after intercourse?" Jon smirks. "I know you'll try valiantly but I do think you'll fail. I don't begrudge you or your master the attempt--"

    They stop, and peer over at the demon. "...You /are/ Mammon, aren't you?" He shakes his head. "Decided to try your hand at this business? See if you can win whatever betting pool you've got going with the other demons around here?" A smirk. "Nice try, but--if /anything/ would work on me, it wouldn't be a mere change in appearance."

    His expression changes as he looks out over the plain again, gaze growing distant, tone thoughtful. "More than anything--I just want to get home. Maybe if I thought agreeing to a single encounter would lead to you opening a portal right back to my family?" He considers that. "Maybe. There's a lot I'd do, at this point, to get home more quickly. But I know, by now, it wouldn't work like that. I suspect whenever I get beyond the Gates of Hell and the Dark Wood... it'll take even longer to get back home. If a shortcut was in the cards--well. I really would do /just/ about anything."

    His tone lowers. "I miss them, terribly. I miss Martin's tea, and Cael's laugh. The little smirk she gets when she thinks she's getting one over on me. Gods, I--" He presses a hand to his chest. "We'd barely had /six months/. I've been missing her longer than I've known her. I /hate/ that." He shakes his head. "But you can't send me back any faster, for whatever reason, so--I suppose I'll try to use the time to rest. Work through some things. Be a better boyfriend and spouse once I'm home." They blink back tears, and reach up to wipe at their eyes.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The servant shifts, grows, and the great Fallen is standing next to Jon his own long tunic shifting to it's deep violet color instad of the diaphonous gown of the servant. "I thought it would lend you to speak more freely were I not in such a form" he says with the same soft smile. "You cannot fault me for trying. It is so seldom that I make myself more... available in such a manner."

    He steps up next to Jon. "But to answer your earlier question. No it does not have to be on a pillow or after such actions. If what you truly desire is that connection. A chance to learn what it would take for you to be a better beloved in your life... then I can supply such a thing, surely." His smile broadens once more. "But I am going to try nonetheless. After all, this land is the realm of carnal desire... but intimacy takes many forms beyond the scope of physical."

    He places a hand on Jon's back and turns to usher him back into the confines of the palace. "Come. You are correct, I cannot send you back sooner than the ordained time, but I can at least make your time here more profitable than previous Circles. A respite before you make the final trek home."