The War Horses Series
By Kitkat
War Horses
It's not easy being a god, especially a god of something that is both hated and desired in equal measure. I am Ares, God of War. An introduction that has inspired fear in many hearts. The problem, you ask? Sometimes it just gets too much. Being feared, being worshipped, but still being completely unknown.  Until I found him. Through him I
found the passion that I thought died long ago. Passion that he brings out of me with the biting of the ropes and the sharp cracking of his whip. Today is a special day. My Master has deemed me trained enough to be shown at a very special event.   Here he is now, my newly-divine Master. Copper curls framing a strong face, his full lips parted exposing just a hint of tongue. Dark eyes roaming over my naked form as if he owns it. He does, of course. A flowing white shirt, more open than not, giving all a spectacular view of his chest. Tight pants of a rough material that feels deliciously abrasive against my hard cock. Best of all these, are his boots. Long, black riding boots, tight leather accentuating his muscles calves.  "Are you ready to make me proud today, my stallion?"

I do not answer verbally, but try to show with my body that I wish only to please him.   "Very good. You will be a smash at the show today.  First, we must tidy you up a little bit."

I looked down at my body. I was a little unkempt. Dried semen, and just a hint of blood dotted my body. Further inspection was interrupted by the cool water hitting my flesh. I reared up in surprise.   "Calm down, pet."

His voice calms me, as it always does. I settle into the small tub, while my Master removes the remains of the previous night's games from me. Next comes the lotion, silky and slick, reminding me of the oil he uses when he fucks me.

"None of that." He whispers in my ear. Grabbing my cock, he encases it in a tight leather sheath, blocking any chance of release. He's brushing my hair now, making it shine with dark fire. I can not explain what it's like to be the center of such focus. "Almost ready. Open up.

I am not sure if he means my mouth or legs, so I spread both wide for him. I taste the warm leather bit as he places it in my mouth. Strapping it tightly, I am rendered silent. Next, he rubs my ass, before placing the object in that will keep me open and ready for my Master, or anyone he allows to touch me. Now the gloves are placed over my hands and feet to further restrict my movement. A harness is fitted to my chest, with rings that connect to the collar I always wear in my Master's presence. Finally, it's time for the saddle. Its weight is a comfort.

He uses his powers to take us back to Olympus. I begin to have my doubts. Submitting to my Master in private is easy and gives me joy. Submitting, being treated as an animal in front of the other Olympians? Am I crazy?

He must have been reading my thoughts. He answered my questions. "No turning back now, Ares. You begged me for freedom through servitude. I am simply following your wishes."

Of course I could just use my own powers and disappear. I thought he would ask me to give him my sword, but he didn't. He said that the knowledge that I still had my godhood aroused him.

"It's time, pet."

With those words, we entered the Great Hall. The rational part of my mind noted how different it looked from this angle. On my hands and knees, the cool tile below and the hot pressure of my Master riding me. I looked around as much as the bridle would allow as I marched. The room was a mix of mortals and gods, all in the roles of trainer or trained. I looked at the perfect look of supplication on some of the faces, and knew I had a long way to go if I continued with this course of training.

I made it to the pedestal, groaning in disappointment as my Master dismounted. Using the harness to lift me to my feet, he grabbed my arms and secured them behind me. I felt painfully aware of the eyes upon me. I then lifted one leg up onto the next step of the platform, bending my knee as I had been instructed. Now I was totally open to any and all who could see me.

The next hour was a blur of quick pinches, gropes, and tongues exploring me. I thought it would never end. I wished that it wouldn't. Finally, I felt the cool, familiar hands of my Master, unlocking my hands, lowering me back to the floor. He kissed me over the bit, then everything faded to black.

We were back in his chamber. He confidently removed the bit, giving me just a minute to relax my jaw before thrusting his cock into my mouth. I use my tongue and teeth generously, lapping up the flavor of him, the feel of his glorious cock. Almost reluctantly, I move my mouth to his balls, massaging them slowly.

"Enough, pet. I must be inside you now."

I love when his voice gets that tinge of desperation to it. It is the only hint I get that I can drive him as mad as I feel whenever I'm near him.

Positioning himself behind me, he removes the plug from my ass with one hand, and the sheath from my cock with the other. I groan with the freedom, but sob with the emptiness I feel. Emptiness that is quickly replaced by his throbbing cock, pushing deeper and deeper into me. I push back, timing it so I can feel his cock all through my body. His hands begin to run up and down my thighs, making them quiver. He then grabs my own aching cock, using his hands to drive me to the brink of orgasm.

I can feel his body shaking, a sign that he's about to cum. The instant I hear his shout, I splatter my seed all over his hand. He leans over, still inside me. We are one. If only we could stay like this forever.

He is still inside me when I feel the vibrations that mean Zeus wants to see me. Before I can even ask, Iphicles pulls out of me and we're both dressed.

"I know. I feel that you're needed. Let's go."

He disappears in a flash of pale yellow light. I follow him, for now and always.

Wild Horses

I looked over to my left as I heard the rising sound of great rushing wings. A chariot was entering the Hall, pulled by two winged gods. One the right, was Cupid, god of love. His blonde hair and white wings contrasted wonderfully with the midnight black harness he was wearing. Even with the bit stretching his usually luscious lips, you could see he was pouting beautifully. On the right, Cupid, god of war. Black wings almost pulsing with the rage that was boiling beneath those hazel eyes. His harness matched his counterpart, but on the war god, it seemed a part of him, rippling with emotion.

I felt almost relieved as the chariot moved into everyone's line of vision. The stares that had been directed at me were arousing him to the point of pain caused by the leather sheath around my cock. I continued to move,being urged on by my Master. Slowly, I regained a small measure of self-control. I watched the chariot from the corner of my eye. It was only when the was the driver of the chariot that I forgot all my training and stopped dead in my tracks.

The driver, and obvious Master of Ceremonies, by the way even the Masters and Mistresses lowered their heads slightly, was a mortal. A beautiful, wicked, perverse mortal. Julius Caesar. Wearing nothing over his chest but the glittering rings through each nipple, and a leather tunic, which displayed more cock that it covered. He was  decadent. He was magnificent.

"You want him. I can almost see the desire coming off you, pet." Master whispered to me.

I can not lie to him. "Yes, Master."

He laughed softly. "Good, pet. We must always have honesty between us. Now, let's watch the opening event."

The chariot had made its way to a smaller dais away from the main pedestal. Both Cupids stopped and lowered their heads to await further instruction.

"Welcome one and all.  I trust that so far things have gone well." He stepped off the chariot, running his hand over the darker Cupid's  ass as he passed.  He received a muffled curse and defiant shake as a response. "I'm sure you are all wondering how I got this god of war, from the alternate universe, into this appetizing position.  It was quite simple.  I broke him.  These little displays of defiance are just for show, he has all his godly powers.  He is more than capable of destroying me in an instant. Yet he won't, because he now needs me."

I was fascinated, I was horrified.  Not for what had happened to Cupid, but what had happened to me.  I was broken.  The gorgeous man still sitting on my back, cock warm and hard against me, owned me.  I shuddered.

"Ah, it's finally hitting you, isn't it?  You've realized that somewhere along the line, you stopped playing the game, and became the pawn. It must be delicious torment.  The realization that you need me.  You must revel in these feelings, secure that there is nothing you can do about it." Master's seductive tones filled me with a wave of despair, only to have it washed over by a tidal wave of serenity.  I was Iphicles', to do with as he wished.

I was still trembling, when Master turned my head back toward the dais. Caesar had removed all bonds from his defiant charge.  Without the bit or harness to struggle against, Cupid remained completely still.

"You see, he will not harm a single hair on my head.  Many say that violence and threats can destroy people.  For some, they are right. For those who have the violence seared into their beings, another approach is needed.  Our warrior Cupid is no god of love, at least not any definition known to the world.  He is, however, very capable of obsession.  It was his desire to win, that brought him here.  He had to have me, but he soon found that the hunter was really the prey."

Caesar stepped closer to the dark haired god, taking a small knife from a sheath tied around his thigh.  The tip sparkled silver, then dimmed to crimson as he ran it along Cupid's chest, carving out the letters, J C. Cupid made no attempt to heal himself, he simply stood rigid, the only sign of life was his rapidly hardening cock. Caesar admired his work for a minute before licking the blood trickling down Cupid's chest.

I'm no stranger to blood, but seeing the dark liquid disappear into Caesar's lush mouth was one of the most erotic things I'd ever witnessed. As Caesar pushed Cupid to his knees, I knew the show was only just beginning.  The winged god slowly took the head of Caesar's cock into his mouth.  Inching his way up the shaft,  his hands tried to grab Caesar's hips, but were quickly slapped away.  The look on Caesar's face was inscrutable.  Was it pain from Cupid using his teeth harshly? Or pleasure the likes of which most mortals never know?  More than likely,
it was a combination of both.

I felt my Master moving in rhythm to Caesar's thrusts into Cupid's mouth.  Caesar took a sharp breath, then moaned as he came.  At the sight of the liquid leaking from Cupid's mouth, Iphicles also came, almost so quietly that I wasn't sure he had until I felt the sticky wetness on my back.  I was still lost in the vision I had just witnessed, when Caesar pronounced in a loud voice.

"Let the show begin."