Butterfly Beach XVI: Rebirth - Sex Stories

Butterfly Beach XVI: Rebirth

... my wings.I mused, more of a thought than anything else. I felt the butterflies sigh in response. A sigh of both sadness and hope. Perhaps they would grow back one day. Or perhaps I would remain as I once had been. No longer a hybrid of Lepidoptera and homosapien, but simply Olivia Delacroix. Only time would tell.

Eventually, I came to the beach where was had set up our camp. Of Emma, Bull, Gavin, and Carter there were no signs. In fact, there was very little sign that we had ever set our mark upon the beach. I spend the afternoon searching, tempted by the sight of the berries that we had discovered and feasted upon, opening us up to so many pleasures. Eventually, I grew hungry and dined upon several handfuls and lost myself in a haze of sensuality and a different kind of hunger. It seemed natural to lay upon the soft grass above the beach and finger myself into oblivion for a time. So recently awoken from death only to seek a much smaller death once more. La petite mort indeed.

Eventually I began a trek down the beach towards the cave that Carter had discovered so long ago. I found it easily enough and made my way inside. The strange glyphs still lined the wall, the language still undecipherable. I memory of the strange crystal-filled cavern and Dorofeyev’s diary stirred within me. Other memories as well. Less pleasant ones. My time as a captive upon the Eye of Thermisto where I had been tortured and…

“Non,” I murmured, scrubbing my eyes with the palms of my hand as ...

... if I could simply erase the nightmares that darkened my thoughts. I had died and had been reborn. If my broken body could heal, so could my broken mind.

I slipped outside once more, my gaze drifting across the sands and out to sea. The clouds had turned dark since I’d found the beach once more. A storm was coming. Already I could feel the air growing chill and the wind picking up. I decided to ride it out as we had once before in the safety of the small shelter I had just vacated. And so I waited, listening to the wind howl and the thunder crash for what seemed like hours, huddled and suddenly feeling very alone. I ended up curled up and crying, the enormity of all that had happened flooding over me like the waves that ravaged the shore outside.

Eventually, it passed. Both the storm and my despair and I emerged once more into a world of wan sunlight and gentle breezes. Overhead I heard a bird cry out. An albatross. A sign of good fortune if I remembered correctly. My thoughts drifted to my time on The Golden Dove. I wondered what had become of her and her crew. I wondered what had become of Professor Waites as well. Had he survived to return to London? Had he set out upon another expedition of discovery or did he now dodder away his days in the great library with his colleagues reminiscing about his travels…

Once again, I gazed out to sea, lost in my thoughts. Perhaps I should turn inland once more and seek out Isshu. If he still lived. Some impulse, however, stilled ...