I imagined dragging this reticent round man by the scruff of his neck as he tried to physically find his footing just so he could keep up with me. Yet the best he could muster was a nonsensical toehold that provided a dubious dip and drag kind of experience. I could see sand spewing in every direction as if he was a wheel, feverishly churning and throwing mud all around.
The other women dropped to their knees. Since there was no way in hell I was getting on my knees for anyone, I only bowed my head. If it wasn’t good enough for them, then they’d find out what the real Medusa would bestow upon them.
I felt amazingly free of all significant energy, attitudes, beliefs, and behaviors. I noticed everything on my body fluttered as the sea breeze whispered beneath my clothing and tousled my hair. It was such a juicy moment of solitude and exquisite delight. However, I briefly found myself hung up on whether I could experience this amount of laziness at home.
His magic brought it to life, giving it an internal red glow that grew stronger, forcing it to shudder out a single beat. Then he dropped it into my gaping chest. It immediately attached, as if grateful to be reunited with its goddess.
My face flashed between the three aspects the mortals used for me. A beautiful young maiden, the face I wore now, and the sharp weathered angles of a crone. My body stayed the same, dressed in light robes that swayed with the building wind, gore streaking the tops of my breasts and exposed stomach. I wore a crown of human bone, chanting as I lifted a snake into the sky.