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A dark, warm voice said in her ear,

"Welcome to my storm."

"Well, um, thank you," Alma mumbled through the hand and shook, struggling to see who this was, "but I must get home to my cats. Can we talk about this?"

"Certainly." said the man, if that is what he was. "Walk this way."

Alma couldn't help but giggle, thinking of the scene in Young Frankenstein and her captor laughed,

"I am glad to see that you are not afraid."

"I am too afraid. A little." replied Alma, "I have a feeling that you do not have ill intent"

"Certainly not!" he laughed.

They walked farther down the beach; the air was alive with lights and sparkling energy, and the storm was soon down upon them, lightning crackling around them, with wild, wing shaped sparks that hit the sand with little sighs.

As they walked, her captor's grip lessened, and he spoke, telling her of time and stars flying faster than dreams to awake where light and life begins, to be part of the dance, one with the movement of all earth's rhythms. Alma felt more and more alive, somehow, as if she was coming to see who she truly was. She sighed and leaned into his words as he spoke.

Suddenly illuminated by starlight before them was a bower, woven together from driftwood and seaweed.

"When did this get here?? This wasn't here when I drove by earlier." said Alma.

"Nothing is as it seems, and everything is as it should be" said the Horned God, for as he spoke, he let Alma go and she turned to face him, gazing in wonder at his wise, sparkling eyes and fierce, craggy features. His bronze glowing skin. And those horns....

Alma fell to her knees in the sand, to find that she was naked and covered in glittery dust.

"Oh..."

"Come, my bride, let me truly welcome you to my storm."

The Horned God lifted Alma to her feet and led her by her hand inside the bower, which was warm and filled with a golden glow. A bed of leaves and moss graced the floor, along with baskets of fruit and drinks and oddly phallic shaped stones.

Alma suddenly felt scared, almost embarrassed to be in the presence of The God.

"Why am I here? Why did you take me by force?"

He reached out and cupped her chin in a brown hand. Making her gaze into his eyes, he smiled, like a brilliant moon shining through the tops of the trees. He whispered,

"Come awake, Alma, awake."

Alma sighed and reached for him, her hands shaking, to find his skin cool and electric to the touch. She ran her hand along the curve of his muscular back, feeling his energy soak in to her like she was slipping into a hot tub. He bent down and kissed her hard, biting her lips and chin. Alma gasped and dug her nails into his buttocks, and something in her sprang open wide, she felt the earth under feet fall open and her into it, she felt The Horned God's cock growing hard against her hip, his breath and teeth on her neck and shoulders, the leaves and moss bed rising up to meet them.

His scent was intoxicating; the salt and brine of the sea like wine, making Alma feel encompassed, as if nothing mattered but this, nothing had ever mattered except this. She wondering briefly, as he bit and sucked at her nipples, how she ever dealt with bills, and her job and what kind of cat food to buy.

She laughed and reached for The Horned Gods cock, restless with the need to have it in her mouth. He sat upon his knees and she crouched in front of him, holding it in her hands, reverently. The Horned God tangled his hands in her hair, forcing her head back, and she opened wide, taking all of him into her mouth.

His cock tasted so sweet. Alma sucked and bit and licked; his hands in her hair pulling, sending sharp tinges of pain that curled her toes with pleasure. She reached down with one hand to her crotch, finding it warm and flowing with juices.

Suddenly The Horned God was staring into her eyes, and lightning hit the top of the bower, catching it on fire.

"Now is the time, my bride."

Alma turned over onto her belly and felt the heat of the fire against her buttocks.

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