It was then that he had himself shut up in the sanctuary of Aphrodite, at Cnidus. Nero had never known a woman before. Carnally. Physically. Intimately. Never. But he, Emperor, could not start with a simple mortal. He, crazy lover of Greece, he, already out of the norm, lost to humanity.

The sound of heavy bronze doors on their centenary hinges. The crowd, outside, who claims his name… then who disperses, tired of waiting in vain. He, quietly, in the smoke of the bristles of incense, approaches the marble statue, Aphrodite naked, offered to him, and drops his purple clothes on the ground. Who will say that sweetness of the cold stone on his skin? Who will say his greasy hands caressing these crystalline hair? Who will say this goddess passively offered to the savagery of the emperor? 
So Nero was shocked when he went to make love to the cold stone statue and instead found Aphrodite waiting for him with a list of conditions – the ancient dictum was that any man wanting to know Aphrodite carnally would first have to fuck the Devil. This was the golden rule. So Nero asked Aphrodite where he might find the Devil (Nero was so aroused that he could fuck the devil’s father) and Aphrodite refused to answer. The legend has it that Nero’s ghost can still be seen roaming the streets of Greece searching for the true devil, while imagining Aphrodite’s breasts.

…
M & Mrs Hyde are the two tantric and trashy sides of a forgotten soul, with frequent Jungian mood, tiny red spot obsession, Bombay Sapphire passion, frequent insomnia, recurrent headaches, taste for Darjeeling, and fascination for words. Always travelling from East to West, and inversely.