Part 7: SOPHIA "Revenge is Sweet"
I lounged on the soft cushions that flanked the walls and watched the god as he plucked the balls of paper that would determine the next little humiliation play in his little farce of a game. Ares was my best friend - and sometime lover - and I hated that he was being subjected to such blatant humiliation. I felt he was handling the game very well. An emotional man who hid behind a wall of either anger or lust, he had remained very cool and had come out on top as often as he had been made to look somewhat of a fool.
"Oh this is rich," he said, his voice soft and seductive. "Exact Revenge - in what ever way you choose."
Strife curled his back inward and covered his mouth in a vain attempt to suppress a snicker. So - Strife could not stand to see Ares, his beloved uncle, embarrassed too much. Here was something worthy of a war god - revenge. Yet, who, I wondered, would be the object of this act? Ares unwrapped the second ball and his brow furrowed.
"Who?" Aphrodite asked, impatient to hear the one who would receive Ares' wrath. "Who is it, Ares. Spill it."
"Your worst enemy," came the reply, the deep baritone hesitant. A whoop of laughter from the pale god to Ares' left told us he'd gotten both his challenges. Ares looked up and around at the Olympians gathered there, then his eyes came to rest on the pale god. Strife sat back up straight and looked around at us, a mock look of innocence on his agile face.
"What?" he protested.
"I think this goes beyond the spirit of the game, don't you?" Athena protested, probably aware than she was on Ares' most hated list.
"Now, now! Not fair, not fair at all!" Ares' nephew protested. "Ares has been humiliated several times, and has been a very good sport about it," Strife looked at the war god and gave him two thumbs-up. "The least we can do is let him continue - have a bit of... fun!" Hercules shifted uncomfortably in his seat beside Athena . Ares looked at both of them, his eyes lingering on the two for a moment while a dark look passed over his face.
"Don't worry - I'll pick some "worst enemy" not in the room at the current time." Hercules visible relaxed. Athena looked away, her nose raised in the air. Ares sat in silence for a long time, his head bowed as he thought of his challenge.
"Poseidon," he said, his voice quiet. We all nodded, having heard the recent news that Ares' daughter had been raped by Poseidon's son.
"You already had your revenge on Poseidon, Ares," Athena protested. "You killed his son in battle - before any trial could be held, before his guilt proven. For all we know, Alcippe may have wanted the young man's attention." Ares flew to the goddess, his hands going around her neck, his face next to her ear.
"Just be thankful that I don't pick my true worst enemy, Athena."
He let go of her and we were all whisked off to a hill in Athens, a hill where Ares' trial was held, where he was acquitted for the murder of Poseidon's son. The mid-day sun beat down on our little party as we stood and looked at the small amphitheater where we had held his trial. Wind blew the leaves of the olive trees and the salty smell of the nearby sea filled my nostrils.
"You were all here, you heard the many stories - how Poseidon pursued meaningless grudges against me, slandered my name, questioned my virtue and that of my daughter. Where he called Alcippe a liar, where he challenged her virtue. His son's death was less painful than either the rape or the trauma she has suffered as a result of his slander against her. He should have suffered far worse than this."
"Ares - this isn't good," I said to him, wanting to prevent him from pursuing this line. I gave Strife one of my nastiest looks, which was, of course, merely a source of mirth for the young god. My own handsome features are so innocent, I can barely muster an angered look even when enraged.
"Hermes," Ares cautioned me in his deep voice, his finger pointing at me. "I know what I'm doing."
"Ares - this isn't fair. You exacted your revenge. You killed his son - the rape avenged. No more punishment is needed in this matter."
"No, it's not the rape I'll be punishing. It's the questioning of my daughter's virtue. Poseidon casts himself as such a noble god - loyal husband to Medusa. He has a bastard son I might like to take as my newest lover - no force, no coercion, just me being my own sweet self. I'll give him what that bastard denied my daughter - choice."
"He shouldn't pay for his father's excesses, Ares," I protested. This was usually one of my favorite games with the war god - seduction and corruption of mortal women and men.
"No, you see, it's not just that I want to show him that his son will be a willing sex toy for me, this son was conceived since he married Medusa. Poseidon has claimed to be true to her, never wandering. So he's kept this son a secret - hasn't even told him of his semi-divinity."
"Ares," I protested. "Give this up - lets move on to another selection. Who ever thought up these two should be ashamed."
Strife looked away, hiding his grinning face from my gaze.
"Well," Athena said, willing to back down when she realized this was one more way to make Ares look irrational and meddling in Zeus' eyes. "I suppose Poseidon has left himself open to this, if he's painted himself as pure. As for the seduction of the son, a man is only as corruptible as he wants to be. Ares could try, he might succeed, he might fail. I say we let him continue."
"Ares!" I said, pulling him aside. I loved Ares. I had loved the war god ever since the day I found him in the brass jar, near death, in despair, humiliated by those monstrous twins. I usually loved our little games of seduction - seduced myself by his tactical brilliance in love and war. "This will only make you look bad - whether you succeed or fail. The grudge between you and Poseidon is best left alone. Besides, I repeat, the son's virtue should not be challenged because of Poseidon's arrogance."
"Hermes - this isn't like you - you usually have great fun in our little games. Besides, its not his virtue I'm trying to question, but Poseidon's. I won't mind seducing this young man - he's just ripe for the taking. Never had a man as a lover - who better than me to teach him the pleasures of our sex? There's no virtue lost if you become a god's lover. It's Poseidon's denial of him that I want to challenge. If he has to acknowledge him to Zeus and the other gods, he will have to admit to his own corruptness. Something he has taken to accusing me of, as if I'm the only one on Olympus to have a lover or two." Even Ares smiled at this understatement.
"Hermes," my sometimes lover Aphrodite exclaimed. "Let this be. Who knows how this will go?" I shook my head at her. She always believed that the heart of everyone, mortal or god, would ultimately prevail. She was so naive at times.
I went to the war god and pulled him off to the side of the small clearing at the top of his hill. "Ares!" I said once again. "I don't like this. I'm warning you - sometimes you underestimate your abilities. Either to seduce or enrage your enemies."
"Why thank you, Hermes. I take that as a compliment."
He moved back to the group. Hercules spoke up. "Well, who is this bastard son of Poseidon, Ares?"
"His name is Atreus."
"Never heard of him," Aphrodite said, stroking her hair.
"I know a few of Poseidon's secrets. He and I weren't always enemies." Ares brought us all back to Olympus and we looked as he showed us an image of the mortal, now a young man just entering adulthood. He was a sight - dark chestnut curls, green eyes. Well-muscled, golden flesh - the kind of bulge a man wants to drown in.
He turned to us and smiled. "Poseidon and I have a lot in common actually, despite his protestation of his virtue. We both of us appreciate mortal attributes, whether they're in men or women." Ares looked at Aphrodite and smiled. She smiled back and waved him off, and as she did, she threw her hair back and I could smell the sweet ambrosia that drenched her being.
"Atreus is the son born of one of my general's wives, a mighty sailor, whom Poseidon impersonated for one night of pleasure with the man's wife. A trick I taught him, by the way." He grinned at us.
"Only Poseidon and I know of this child - he confessed to me one night when Bacchus ruled supreme." Ares chuckled at the memory. "A demi-god and he doesn't even know it - know of his divine parentage. A skilled warrior and seafarer in the making, he deserves to know of his divinity."
Ares rubbed his hands together. "It will be a pleasure to seduce the boy, to bring him to Olympus, feed him a bit of ambrosia. This is truly my kind of challenge - a bit of deception, a bit of seduction and some sweet revenge." He looked over at me and smiled.
We gods watched the young man as he walked through the forest surrounding the coastal village, leading his horse behind him. He was on his way back to his father's stables and was dressed in his battle leathers. He had been practicing with his sword against a dummy mounted on a fence on a mock battlefield his late father had constructed for him when he was old enough to hold his own sword. Atreus' brown leather pants and vest hugged his already impressive build - even at 16, he was big and would be even larger - rivaling Ares himself. Dark brown leather boots laced up to his knee and a thick belt was at his side from which his sword hung. His chestnut curls were damp with sweat as was his whole body - he'd had quite a work out after he'd finished the riding portion of the exercise and had swung his sword against the standing dummy until the sweat dripped off him. We gods peered down on the mortal as he went about his business, totally unaware that her life would rapidly change in the next few moments.
Ares materialized in front of him, in full battledress, his black leathers, studded vest, crested helmet and mighty sword at his side. He looked fearsome and beautiful at the same time. He also looked to be at least a whole handbreadth taller than normal. He was out to impress the young man.
Atreus saw the god and pulled up, his hand going to the hilt of his sword instinctively. We watched as his eyes took in Ares' entire form from head to toe. Did the young man recognize the war god?
"Who..." he began.
"Atreus," Ares said in that deep honeyed voice. "I'm here to claim you as my lover."
Atreus looked at him in mute shock. Finally, he was able to speak.
"Who are you?" he ventured, his hand secured around the sword's hilt, ready to pull it out should his own defense be required.
"Ares, God of War."
"Ares!" he exclaimed, looking down at the ground, his brow furrowed. "Why you? I have never asked for your indulgence. Why would you claim me as your lover?"
"Well, besides your obvious physical traits, you skills as a warrior, there is a small matter of ... revenge involved in my seduction of you, Atreus." I smiled. Ares was going to take the open route to the young man's heart - telling him of his plans rather than deceiving him.
"Yes. Against your father."
"My father? What has Silenus ever done to you?"
Ares walked around the young man and looked him over. He was a young beauty - his curls shining, strands of gold glinting in the hot mid-day sun. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green. I wanted him - I wanted Ares to succeed in this play now - now that I saw his prey. I wanted to watch as Ares made him cry out with pleasure as the war god sucked his cock, watch the young man take Ares' cock between those shapely lips for the first time. When the war god came to stand next to him, he almost cringed and closed his eyes as if in fear of him. I didn't blame the poor young man. Ares was as terrifying as he was beautiful.
He ignored Atreus' question.
"You aren't interested in being my lover, Atreus?" he asked. He pulled the leather vest open and revealed the hard washboard belly covered in soft brown body hair. "Ahhh," he sighed. "Such a beauty. I will enjoy having you as my lover."
"I am betrothed..." he replied in a soft voice. "My father agreed to my marriage to a young girl - we will wed once she reaches marriageable age."
Ares chuckled. "I think, Atreus, that a god's claim on a mortal takes precedence over that of a future wife. Besides, who is this fiancée of yours? Some stinking fisherman's daughter?"
"Thera, Daughter of Meneleus, a fellow officer and old friend of my father. He saved my father's life on a number of occasions."
"So, you don't find me ... attractive?"
Atreus looked up at him , in his face, very briefly, then back to the ground.
"You are... a man - a god." he replied. "I never..."
"You never *what*? Had a man as a lover? Have you never wondered what it would be like, to love another man? Have you never secretly thought about one of your friends touching you, sucking you, making you cum? Believe me, Atreus,' Ares said, moving closer to the helpless young man, running his finger from Atreus' collarbone to his hip. "It is beyond anything you could imagine, especially when performed by a god."
Atreus looked up into the god's dark eyes, and then quickly away as if to hide the truth of Ares' words. I wondered - did he feel Ares heat? Did he smell the potent spiciness of Ares' musk, his sweat? The ambrosia that scented the god's gleaming skin, his bodily fluids? How could the young man not respond to the god?
Atreus ignored the war god's question. "Why would having me as a lover be revenge against my father?"
"Oh, having you as a lover is secondary to the actual act of revenge, Atreus. I want you as my lover because you're so beautiful, so skilled as a young warrior."
He looked up at the god's face finally, and kept his gaze on him. I could tell it was difficult for him. Seeing a god for the first time, especially one as beautiful as Ares, was overwhelming.
"Can a mortal refuse such a request?"
"Are you saying you don't want to be my lover, Atreus? I'm wounded." He frowned and pouted, those full lips pursing.
Atreus looked away. "My father always condemned men who loved other men, saying it was a man's duty to marry and add children to the estate."
"Well, Atreus," Ares said as he pulled the young man into his embrace. Atreus could not suppress a gasp and closed his eyes in fear. "You don't have to worry about any of that. You see, your *father* was wrong to condemn the love that exists between men. You should listen to me, not your *father* on this. I am a god, Atreus, if I must remind you. Gods are not bound by silly mortal conventions about reproductive sex. Besides, your father was not Silenus. Your father is Poseidon, god of the sea."
Atreus looked up at Ares, his handsome brow knit in confusion and disbelief.
"Yes," Ares smiled. "He slept with your mother one night - came to her in a dream and impersonated her husband, the man you always thought was your father. She conceived that night and you are the result."
Ares ran his strong hands down Atreus' arms and took the young man's hands in his. He raised them up to his lips and kissed the palms, one at a time. His tongue stroked the tender skin.
"You, my beautiful Atreus, are the son of a god. You are a demi-god. You should not be marrying the lowly Daughter of Menelaus, but another demi-god or god."
"Why has Poseidon never acknowledged me?"
"Because he is afraid of the wrath of his wife, Medusa. He has sworn to us on Olympus that he has not known another woman since he married her. Yet, you were conceived less than a year after this statement of his. He doesn't acknowledge you because if he did, he'd have to acknowledge you as his bastard son, conceived after his marriage to Medusa."
"But," he protested, unable to accept this knowledge so quickly. "That means I should have certain powers...yet, I have none that I am aware of..."
"Our powers manifest in different ways. You are a skilled warrior, Atreus. And you are beautiful - even fair Cupid himself is rivaled by you."
Ares smiled at the young man's blush. His blush was so delightful. I knew Ares would enjoy seducing this one. "And you have other powers - you just have to learn to use them. And, of course, there's a little matter of ambrosia."
"So I still don't understand. Why am I part of your plan to seek revenge against...Poseidon?"
"His son raped my daughter, Alcippe. While I did kill the bastard, Poseidon brought me to trial and accused my daughter of fallen virtue - that she seduced Poseidon's son and he also called into question my own virtue. Since virtue is such an issue for the god of the sea, since he holds his own in such high regard, your accompaniment of me to Olympus to claim your proper status as a demi-god would force him to confess that he is no better or worse than the rest of us."
Atreus looked up at the war god. "You will do this, bring me to Olympus, let everyone know of my...parentage, so you can get revenge on my father?"
"Yes, and I'll enjoy it, as well. You being my lover is just the sweet part of the revenge."
"My father won't think much of me if I become the lover of his enemy," he replied looking away from the god's steady gaze.
"Knowing that he's denied you your birthright all your life doesn't make you feel even slightly vengeful yourself?"
The young man sighed and looked up at the god. Ares looked down into his eyes, waiting patiently, not wanting to force the young man. He knew force would not be necessary.
"It makes me feel very sad. To lose a new father before I even had the chance to know him."
"Atreus - it's the only way he'll acknowledge you. I am the only other god who knows of your parentage. He confessed to me one night after you were born, when the two of us were still allies."
"Can't you just go to him, confront him without us being lovers? Tell him you'll tell everyone on Olympus unless he does it himself?"
He took Ares' hands in his own, startling the war god, it was such an intimate move. Atreus looked into Ares' dark eyes - oh! The young man was so delightful - holding the god's hands in his like that - some kind of intimacy already established. Perhaps it was the fact that the god revealed his true father. Perhaps it was the naked lust Ares showed for him.
Such an earnest look on that handsome young face. "I don't want to lose him as a father because he hates me for being your lover. Can you understand that? The desire of a child to have the good favor of his father?"
Ares said nothing for a moment. He didn't want to think of the meaning of those words to himself, and he didn't want to lose the bet.
"No one need know that you are my lover, Atreus. I could still bring you to Olympus, force Poseidon to acknowledge you."
"I'll tell you what, Ares," Atreus said, nodding his head as if he had made up his mind. "You do this for me, take me to Olympus, help me claim my rightful place as my father's son and I'll consider being your lover. But it won't be out of some debt I owe you. I won't be your lover to repay you. I'll be your lover because I want to be, or not at all."
"And if I insist? If I demand you make love with me before I'll do this?"
"I'll go to Hercules. He'd do this for me. He wouldn't expect me to be his lover."
We watched as Ares' face grew bright red at the mention of his half-brother. Hercules' chest puffed out and he looked at us all gathered together to watch Ares' first attempt at seduction.
"I would help him and wouldn't expect sex in return," Hercules said, his voice proud. Strife sneered at the demi-god.
"All right," Ares almost hissed, but then regained his composure. "We'll wait until Poseidon has acknowledged you. You can come to me when you decide if you want me or not. But first, as a token of your willingness to consider my request - I want a kiss. Just one kiss and I'll force myself to wait. But I'm telling you, Atreus, you have a great deal of nerve to impose on a god in this manner. I could force you to submit to me here and now if I wanted."
Atreus nodded. "I understand, Ares. You don't want to force me. You want me to choose to be your lover. Thank you for being so honest with me and so honorable."
We saw the brief flash of anger pass across Ares' face. He didn't want to be considered too honorable, after all. He liked his status as a sexual rogue, dangerous and irresistible - it made him all the more desirable to gods and mortals alike.
Atreus hands went hesitantly to the god's broad shoulders, and he leaned in, his chest touching Ares. He closed his eyes and parted his lips slightly, waiting for the god to kiss him. We all, on Olympus, held our collective breath as the god leaned down the short distance to Atreus. I knew the boy was lost now - one kiss from the god, from those full expert lips, trained from centuries of kissing the most beautiful and experienced lovers, and he would be unable to resist.
Ares' lips moved to the young man's shapely ones and touched them, remaining at the surface, their breath mingling, I imagined. Atreus could no doubt smell the ambrosia on the god's mouth, almost taste it on his breath. It would arouse him, swell his cock, if it wasn't already straining against his leathers. Ares waited, wanting the young man to feel compelled to offer himself more fully to the god. Soon, as if he understood Ares' silent request, Atreus slipped his pink tongue out and touched the god, sliding along the full bottom lip before entering Ares' parted lips.
This was all the god could take, and he pulled the young man's ripe body against him and covered Atreus' lovely mouth with his, kissing him in what I knew was the most passionate kiss the young man had ever or would ever experience. Ares pressed his full body against Atreus, probably so he could feel the god's thick hard cock against his hip and wonder what a god's cum would taste like - wonder if it was as sweet as the god's tongue itself, now plundering the young man's mouth.
Ares pulled back, but did not end the embrace. Atreus' eyes were still closed and his lips parted. He actually panted, his nostrils flaring. Finally he opened his eyes and looked into Ares' own.
"There, Atreus, is my kiss. When you want the rest, you only need call my name."
Poseidon and Ares stood in front of the king of the gods, who was seated on his huge throne. Atreus stood behind Ares and off to the left. Zeus' eyes never left the young man, although he spoke to the gods in front of him.
"What is it, Ares, Poseidon? Why have you requested this audience?"
"Father," Ares began, and stepped forward. "I am here to ask you and Poseidon to acknowledge the young man I bring in front of you both today. I present to you Atreus, son of Poseidon and the mortal woman, Arianna. Poseidon has hidden his existence from you, father and from the other gods on Olympus for no other reason than he wanted his current wife, Medusa to believe the lie of his fidelity to her. This young man is a demi-god and shows excellent promise as a warrior and seaman. He deserves his semi-divinity to be recognized and to learn to use his powers. If his father does not desire to use his skills in service to him in his domain, I would be pleased to have him serve me in mine."
Ares stepped back and turned to Poseidon, whose shocked face was red with anger and embarrassment. He looked to Zeus and then Atreus.
"Ares, you should have come to me first," the god of the sea said, his voice filled with hostility. "We could have settled this quietly. Now all Olympus will know of this."
"Precisely," Ares said, his arms folded across his chest. "You have denied him what was rightfully his and would have continued to do so if I hadn't brought this to the king of the gods himself. He is a fine warrior - I've been watching him with interest since the death of my own son at the hands of my dear half-brother, Hercules. It's a shame to deny a son, don't you agree, father?"
Zeus said nothing, a dark look on his face at Ares' impudence.
Poseidon came to Ares and stood so close their chests touched. He held his fist up, and threatened the war god. "You'll pay for this Ares. My good name..."
Ares gripped the sea god's fist and pushed it easily out of the way.
"Your good name will remain as good as it is now if you acknowledge the boy, accept him and make nothing more of it than a happy father reunited with his long-lost son," Ares said, venom in his voice.
Ares took a deep breath, then, and closed his eyes. "I just lost a son, Poseidon," he said, his voice low and deep. I felt for Ares - it was hard for him to acknowledge his feelings of loss so publicly, but Ares did love his children and intervened on their behalf willingly when needed.
"I wouldn't turn this one down if he were mine, but would be proud of him. Take a look at him. The mortal who raised him did you proud, Poseidon, but he's dead now. The boy needs a man to help him, to provide leadership for him."
Poseidon's jaw pulsed as he ground his teeth. That he hated Ares was obvious, that he despised having to do this, to admit he fathered a child out of wedlock - while married to Medusa, was also obvious to us all.
Zeus spoke up now, his hands on the throne's armrest. "Ares is right on this issue, Poseidon. You must acknowledge him and accept him publicly. It's the only honorable thing to do."
Poseidon gave Ares a deathly look and then came over to the young man and looked him over. He then offered his arm in the warrior fashion and the two clasped forearms. He nodded his head. "I acknowledge him to all Olympus. He is my son by the mortal woman."
Ares smiled and looked down at his feet.
"He is a good strong young man - I have been watching him as well. I am sure I can find a place for him in my own domain. I welcome him."
Then Poseidon pulled Atreus into his arms and patted him on the back. I could see the young man biting back tears and felt my own throat choke with emotion.
Zeus also nodded, pleased that Poseidon had finally accepted his son. "Medusa will give you trouble, Poseidon," Zeus warned. "But to find a son is a rare event. I have found that even a bastard can be as good a son, if not better, than one who is legitimate. It's worth the suffering, I know." We turned to watch Ares - I saw his shoulders tense as he recognized that Zeus referred to Hercules and not himself.
Zeus waved his hand and a silver platter appeared in his hand filled with pieces of the golden food of the gods, ambrosia. He waved to the three and they approached the king of the gods.
"Atreus, I, as well, recognize your divinity and offer you our food. Eat of this, the nectar of the gods, and join us as an immortal."
Zeus offered the plate to the young man and Atreus took a piece and put it in his mouth. Atreus' eyes closed in ecstasy as the power infused in the food went through him, giving him immortality. The air glimmered around him as he took on his divinity and he staggered briefly before Ares reached out and caught him, steadying him with one strong arm. Poseidon reached out with his own arm, an indulgent smile on his face at his son's first experience of the heady taste of a god's power.
Atreus gripped his father's arm and then turned to Ares. He clasped Ares forearm and smiled. "Thank you, Ares," he said, his young voice still filled with emotion from the whole experience. "I won't forget this. And I will accept your offer of further training in the art of ... war."
Ares smiled, his face not triumphant, but honestly pleased that the young demi-god freely wanted him.
"At your pleasure, Ares," Atreus continued. "When you have time."
We gathered together to watch Ares win his challenge. There was nothing more arousing than when a young man first felt the thrill of another man's touch, especially if it was borne out of mutual desire and if the other man was experienced. Ares was certainly that.
Ares had transported the two of them to the Halls of War and handed Atreus an ornate and ancient sword to use as the two prepared to practice their swordplay. Atreus took the heavy sword by the handle and examined the inlaid gold on the blade and hilt. "A sword used by Alexander himself," Ares said as he watched the young man admire the weapon. "Broke it during the battle before he died. I took it as a memento of our times together and repaired it. I knew one day I would find the proper young warrior to wield it. It's yours."
"Ares! Gods, that so ... generous. It's beautiful. I'm ... not worthy to use such a sword, if Alexander touched it."
"Maybe not now," Ares laughed, turning to face the young man, his sword drawn. "But one day, with enough practice..."
Atreus crouched, readying himself for the battle and the two thrust swords at each other, ducking and jumping out of the way - the sword play mere foreplay for their eventual lovemaking. I enjoyed watching the two - their bodies gleaming with sweat once they removed their vests as they clashed swords.
"You're very strong for your age, very well built," Ares said in his most seductive voice. Atreus smiled, proud of his physique. He said nothing but tried all the harder to impress the war god with his considerable skill and flush with his newly acquired godly powers. Then I watched with pleasure as Ares let the young man gain the upper hand, allowing him to force the war god back. With a crash, Ares' sword went flying and Atreus had Ares pinned against the stone wall. He held the blade of the ornate sword against Ares' throat. The god's face was flushed, his dark eyes flashed with lust.
"You're not really trying," Atreus said, his voice deep and filled with passion. "Oh, you couldn't be more wrong, Atreus," Ares said quietly, licking his lips. The sweat dripped down his brow and into his eyes. He blinked at the salty sting. "I'm trying very hard..."
"You succeeded," Atreus whispered, casting the sword away and wrapping his arms around the war god's neck. His mouth took the god's ripe lips and he pressed his body against Ares in a way that indicated to us all his intense arousal and need. Ares' hands slipped down and circled the young man's hips, his hands sliding over the taught buttocks, squeezing them, pulling him against the god's body. Ares turned the young god around and pressed him against the wall, kissing him deeply and running his hands over the slippery golden chest.
With a thought, Atreus' clothes were gone and he stood naked before the war god who moved his lips to Atreus' nipples. I smiled as I heard the young man's gasp of pleasure as Ares licked and bit the sensitive skin to hardness. Atreus' head was leaning back, his eyes opened, staring at the ceiling as the war god's mouth trailed down his chest to his belly. Ares' hands stroked the young god's hips and now fully on his knees, Ares leaned down and licked Atreus' thighs. We could see the young god's thick erection - so hard, fluid weeping off the bulging head. Atreus would cum very quickly - at his age it was hard to last even this long. Ares had better hurry, I thought, as I watched they young god's chest heave, his nostrils flare at the intensity of his arousal.
When the war god took Atreus' cock in his hot mouth, his expert tongue laving the sensitive head, the young god cried out as his orgasm began. He looked down and watched as the war god moved back and forth on his cock and shuddered as he ejaculated in the god's willing mouth. Ares moved his mouth on the young man's pulsing cock, drawing out every last drop of the creamy white semen, swallowing greedily the fluid newly infused with ambrosia.
Then Ares was up, kissing the young god hungrily, letting Atreus taste himself, his sweetness, on the war god's tongue.
"Now I want you to pleasure me," Ares whispered as he rubbed his massive erection on the young god's hip. Atreus nodded, his eyes closed, his breath still strained. "I want to pleasure you."
He turned Ares around and pressed him back against the wall with his own passionate kiss and replayed every move that the war god had used to pleasure him. Ares watched Atreus as the young man stroked his broad chest, as he licked and sucked Ares' nipples and then bit them. Ares licked his lips as Atreus tongue slipped into the war god's navel and then traced down the war god's strong thighs. Ares massive cock rose straight up and out from his body - he was so aroused at this seduction.
When Atreus licked the fluid off the end of Ares' cock, Ares moaned and closed his eyes. Then the young god took the head of Ares' cock in his mouth and sucked and stroked it with his tongue as he had learned from the war god. His hand stroked the granite shaft.
"Yes, Atreus," Ares said, his voice deep and thick, "Your mouth feels so good. Stroke harder. Yes, that's it. Faster. Oh, fuck. You're going to make me cum, your mouth feels so good."
Ares hands went to the young god's curls and he thrust slowly in Atreus' mouth, watching his huge cock move in and out between the young god's lips which were flushed and stretched by the war god's massive size.
"Oh, FUCK!" Ares yelled as he came, his hot seed shooting in Atreus' mouth. The young god was startled at first to feel the salty-sweet fluid fill him, but swallowed and pulled his mouth softly over the sensitive head while Ares' ejaculated, grunting with each pulse of his cock.
"Ohhhh, fuck," the war god whispered, moving the young god's mouth so slowly over his cock. "That was so good..."
He pulled Atreus up and kissed him, tasking himself on the young god's tongue.
"Lover," Ares said, looking into Atreus' green eyes. "I'm going to teach you everything I know."
His mouth covered the young god's own mouth in a blistering kiss.
Part 8: DAWN
Back on Olympus, Ares smiled to himself. This ridiculous bet spelled disaster from the start, but so far he'd dealt with everything that trio of idiots had thrown at him and made out rather well, all things considered. In fact, they were probably pretty frustrated with him right now.
He flashed into the room and looked around. Sure enough, Aphrodite, Cupid and even Strife were looking a little grim. The crowd gathered around them, though, showed considerable animation as they anticipated the next drawing.
Ares had no idea how a simple card game turned into a community event and he didn't like it. What business was it of theirs how he paid off a bet? "Don't you all have anything better to do?" he asked, as he walked to the center of the room. A few pairs of eyes turned away, but no one seemed inclined to respect his privacy. Bunch of nosy bastards.
Still, more than half-way through with this farce he couldn't possibly quit. Besides, these past weeks he actually discovered a few new diversions he just might like to pursue further. No use in making too big a fuss now. Maybe he wouldn't even hurt the three main players too badly after all.
Now to get this over with. Without another word, he gave a slight smile and reached in to pull a slip of parchment from the bowl Cupid held. First the action:
'Under another guise, act as this person's servant for a day. You must do whatever is asked of you.'
His confident smile tightened a little and his spirits sank. If there was one thing Ares hated, it was being told what to do. Then again, how bad could it be? He'd dress up like a mortal and go do a few menial tasks. Nothing said he couldn't use his powers to make the work easier.
Shrugging slightly, he passed the slip to Strife, who read it aloud with some satisfaction.
Cupid grinned. "Slave for a day, huh, Dad? And you have to do everything they tell you!"
Aphrodite giggled. "You know, that could be kind of fun!"
Ares ignored them and reached for the other bowl. As he read the name, however, his whole body seemed to freeze. This couldn't be happening. He'd expected someone royal or a wealthy landowner, a warlord maybe. Even some poor farmer he could have handled, but not this, not…
Cupid grabbed the slip from his hand and gave a delighted shout as he read the name: 'Apollo'.
The murmurs around the room grew louder. 'Dite smiled gleefully and Strife chuckled.
Ares glared at all of them. Apollo. Of all the vain, obnoxious, potentially embarrassing individuals who could've been named, he certainly topped the list. And if Ares knew Apollo he was also…
"Hey, did I hear my name up there?"
Here. Right here, coming through the crowd. This was going to be bad, Ares could just feel it. He watched sullenly as the tall, blond figure made his way to the center of the room. There was no great love lost between the two brothers. Apollo was everything Ares was not. His sun-bright, handsomeness always seemed to cast Ares in the shadows. His supreme self-confidence was unaccountably attractive, drawing admirers from every quarter, which in turn made Ares feel even more alienated. Worst of all, Apollo remained one of the few gods Ares could never intimidate.
Taking the paper from Cupid, Apollo made a great show of reading it. "Sure, enough, that's me, Apollo! And what was that challenge again?" The sun god held out his hand, took the paper from Strife and read it aloud again with great relish.
Ares knew he was in deep shit. Apollo played the crowd like a master, and Ares could do nothing but stand here and take it. Whatever possessed him to agree to this bet?
Finally, the bronzed god turned to him with a show of amazingly white teeth. "So, brother, it seems you and I will be spending some time together today." He slowly walked around Ares, looking him up and down as he might when purchasing a common house slave.
"So it seems." Ares tried to relax and appear confident, but his stiff manner and forced smile betrayed him. "So can we get on with it? You already know what I look like." He wondered how Apollo would look with those teeth crammed down his throat.
Strife's snickers were echoed throughout the crowd as they enjoyed the war god's discomfiture.
"Yes," Apollo agreed, "but I'm trying to decide what to do about that first part. Obviously you don't need a disguise since I already know who you are." More snickers from the crowd. "But I couldn't have you wandering the halls of my temple looking like that."
Ares glanced down at his usual black leathers and back up at Apollo with a warning scowl, truly dreading the other's next move.
"Now let's see." Apollo put his finger to his chin, then, as if making a decision, waved his hand and Ares' leathers disappeared to be replaced with rough-woven cloth garments. "I suppose I could put you to work with the peasants."
Cupid's muffled snort of laughter set off a chain reaction of chuckles through the room. Ares started to protest, but realized it would only make him look sillier, so he started running through his favorite methods of torture, plotting ways to trap his brother someplace where he couldn't use his powers and make him pay for this.
"Or maybe, in one of the temples." Another wave of the hand and Ares was clothed in the awkward costume of one of Apollo's priests, the overly ostentatious robes and jewels drawing louder chuckles from the crowd. Ares' face darkened and he imagined the other god screaming as Ares pulled out his golden hair, strand by strand.
"Or I could leave you with the serving women." The sight of Ares in a woman's dress and apron completely destroyed the crowd's restraint and they howled with laughter, although Ares' obviously growing anger prompted a general movement away from the center of the action. After the hair, he'd tear off that tanned skin, strip by agonizing strip until his brother begged for mercy.
Ignoring Ares' growing unrest, Apollo smiled calmly and seemed to consider for a moment. "No, I think the most appropriate dress for today would be a simple slave's costume." Another flash, and the laughter changed to catcalls and wolf-whistles as Ares stood rigidly, clad only in a simple loincloth and a leather collar. In one hand, Apollo casually held the end of a chain attached to the collar.
"Yes, I think that'll do for now." Apollo turned to the three gods in the center of the crowd. "I'll make sure he stays in line and I'll have him back to you tomorrow in mint condition." He winked. "Come along now, brother." He tugged the chain lightly and walked across the room, parting the crowd and assuring that everyone got a glimpse of the war god in his humiliation.
It was all Ares could do not to curse and strike down the golden god where he stood. Agreeing to this bet definitely qualified as his worst idea ever. He was going to kill them all - Aphrodite, Cupid, Strife, and Apollo with them, and everyone else who just stood there and laughed at him…
Once outside the door, Apollo transported them to his home temple.
"Was that really necessary?" The cold fury in Ares' tone spoke volumes.
Apollo smiled as he sat casually in his throne and leaned back to survey his new servant. "Probably not, but it was fun." With a flick of his finger the chain disappeared, although the collar stayed. "You don't seem happy to be spending the day with me, brother. Still, I've got a busy schedule and I could use an extra pair of hands. But first, fetch me some breakfast."
"Breakfast?" Ares roared, unable to contain his temper any longer. "You go through this entire charade to humiliate me and now you want me to bring you breakfast?"
Apollo shook his finger reprovingly, "Now, now brother. Those are the terms of the bet. You're my servant for the day, and right now I want to be served. Breakfast."
Realizing the futility of further argument, Ares glowered and prepared to summon a breakfast tray.
"Not that way."
Ares stopped and looked questioningly.
Apollo grinned and tilted his head. "I think another rule for the day is in order. Whatever I ask of you today, you can't use your powers unless I give you express permission, understood?"
Ares fumed, but nodded slightly. "So where am I going to get breakfast?"
Apollo shrugged, "The kitchen, I suppose. Just ask somebody out there." He waved dismissively toward the door, turning his attention toward some scrolls on the table beside him.
Once outside the door, Ares stopped to regain his composure. He couldn't imagine a worse scenario, but it was only for a day. If he could just manage to keep his temper that long. Taking a deep breath, he bargained with himself - put up with it for a day and he would get his revenge on Apollo later. Not to mention some serious revenge on the three instigators of this disaster.
In fact, this might even be turned to his advantage. Spending an entire day as Apollo's servant would put him in close contact with all of his brother's dealings. Who knows, maybe he would see or hear something that he'd be able to use against the sun god later.
More secure in his ability to withstand whatever further torments this day might bring, Ares set out to find the kitchen. Along the way he even started to enjoy the sidelong looks that he (or rather, his outfit) received from various members of the staff. He charmed the cook out of some food for himself, and headed back to Apollo's chamber in a much more positive frame of mind.
When Ares returned, Apollo accorded him no more significance than the tray that held the food. After breakfast, the golden god summoned another pair of servants and the group set off to make the rounds of some of his more important temples. Beyond a quick wave to clothe the darker god in a more practical working outfit before they began, he treated him no differently than the other servants. Except that somehow, Ares managed to be assigned to all the dirtiest, least desirable tasks.
Throughout the afternoon, Ares gained a new appreciation of manual labor. He carried the largest, dirtiest loads of supplies to and from a variety of storage rooms. He held up the heaviest of the beams as they repaired a fallen roof. He skinned and dressed the carcass of the deer Apollo killed in his midday hunt. He even carried slop jars from sickrooms in the healing temples.
The biggest surprise of the day came in watching his brother's interaction with the priests. Although he remained unbearably arrogant, Apollo proved to be a capable administrator. He never lifted a finger, but he listened to the priests, albeit with some impatience, and considered all the angles of their problems, leaving detailed instructions with a minimum of room for failure.
By the end of the day, Ares' feelings were a confused mixture of disgust over his afternoon's activities, frustration at his brother's apparent lack of weak spots and a grudging admiration for Apollo's ability to get things done.
When they returned to the main temple, Apollo immediately dismissed the other servants, leaving the two of them alone once again. "Have you been enjoying your afternoon, brother?"
Apollo's contemptuous tone prompted Ares to throttle him right then, but he controlled the impulse and replied in kind. "Oh, yes, brother, it's been quite... entertaining."
Apollo laughed. "Well, in that case, I wouldn't want to deprive you of the pleasure of continuing to serve me. Bring me my dinner now, and while I'm eating, prepare my bath."
Ares grated his teeth, and headed for the kitchen before he followed through on the pleasant vision of Apollo's head making a substantial hole in the wall behind him.
It wasn't until he carried the last buckets of steaming water into the bathing chamber that Ares allowed himself to consider the likely conclusion of this scenario. Apollo showed indications of having Ares serve him in every way this evening. It had been centuries since the two were intimate, usually preferring the company of more compatible partners, but there was a time when they'd had some fun together.
While Ares mused over this, Apollo entered the room and, ignoring the other god completely, began to undress. Ares started to leave the chamber, but Apollo stopped him and pointed to the corner. "Just stand there, I'll let you know when I need you."
The sun god continued undressing, slowly stripping the skintight clothing from hardened muscles, revealing more and more of his perfectly bronzed flesh. Forced to stand unoccupied, Ares couldn't tear his eyes away. He could feel the heat growing in his body as the golden god gracefully slid into the steaming water and began to run a soapy cloth across his body. Ever so slowly, Apollo caressed every inch of his own skin, slicking back his hair and massaging his scalp.
Ares felt a tightening in his groin as he imagined his fingers moving through that hair, down those arms, along that beautiful body. Expecting the invitation to do just that, he was startled when, without warning, Apollo stood up, water streaming from his body, and stepped from the tub. Ares gulped as he watched the water droplets making paths across the golden skin.
Seemingly unaware of his brother's reaction, Apollo tilted his head toward a table against the wall. "Clean this up, and then bring that oil." He left the room without a backward glance.
Unpleasantly reminded of his current status, Ares' anger rose again as he pulled a towel from the table and swiped at the floor. Servant for a day, indeed. Grabbing the vial of oil, he stalked into the bed chamber to see what torment his brother planned next.
The sight that greeted him sent his temperature up another notch, anger warring with lust as he stood in the doorway. Apollo sprawled face down on the bed, his light hair and tawny skin in stark contrast to the wine-red bedding. Under normal circumstances, Ares would have taken that as a clear invitation, but now he hesitated.
Sensing his presence, Apollo spoke without moving. "I've worked hard today -- rub my feet."
His feet. Not quite the invitation Ares anticipated, but not entirely without promise. Shrugging, the dark god sat on the end of the bed and lifted one graceful leg onto his lap. Pouring some oil from the flask, he began to massage the bottom of the foot in slow circles, covering every inch. He then moved to do the same with the other foot, encouraged by Apollo's small murmurs of approval. Finishing the feet, he began to make his way up the calves. When he reached the thighs, however, Apollo gave a moan and moved out of his reach, turning his body over to reveal a rock hard erection.
"Suck my cock." The golden god's order was terse, but full of need. Ares could do nothing less than respond as he moved across the hardened thighs. Slowly, he wrapped one hand around the base of the cock and brought his lips to the top, licking the slit once to taste the essence of the god before wrapping his mouth around the entire head. Ever so slowly he brought his mouth down, swallowing the cock inch by inch, as Apollo's breathing quickened.
Pulling back, he sucked gently on the head for a moment and then moved swiftly downward again, causing Apollo to gasp and jerk his hips upward. Moving together they created a rhythm that brought the god quickly to his release. As Ares swallowed the creamy liquid, he felt his own need growing.
Licking the last drops of cum, he leaned up and placed a passionate kiss on Apollo's lips, letting the other god taste himself on Ares and willing him to let this continue. He finally broke the kiss, and gave a sigh of relief and pleasure as, with a sated smile, Apollo gave his last order of the day. "Fuck me, brother. Fuck me."
Part 9: RICHEL "Warmth, Warmth, and More Warmth"
Ares materialized back into the chamber, once again dressed in his customary leathers.
"I don't know Ar, I kinda liked the loin-cloth and collar combo." Dites mirked faintly as the rest of the crowed laughed. Gritting his teeth, Ares ignored her and pushed his way to the table.
Great, it seemed like the number of people standing around the room had actually increased. No wonder nothing ever seemed to get done anymore, everyone was more interested in the carrying out of this stupid bet than in doing their damn jobs. Well, this won't last forever and then he'd just have to remind them exactly what *his* job was. It's not nice, or safe, to laugh at the God of War. And vengeance could be very sweet indeed.
Comforting himself with the thoughts of coming retribution, Ares withdrew his next task. Reading it incredulously, he immediately tripled the suffering he was going to inflict on the person who thought this one up. "Carry out a seduction -- as a woman."
Every god and goddess in the room froze while staring at the massive, leather clad, utterly masculine God of War. The silence held for a second, two...
Chaos ruled. `Dite was hysterical on the floor and Cupid and Strife would have joined her had they not been propping each other up while laughing so hard they were crying. Even Hercules abandoned his usual `clueless in Greece' demeanor and collapsed on the divan choking out something about pink taffeta and feather boas.
Self-preservation almost managed to sober the demi-god up as Ares began his stalk across the room. He was intimately familiar with that expression on his brother's face and he braced himself for battle as best he could while still laughing. However, nothing could prepare him for what happened next.
The usual blue lightening played over Ares' form and for a moment it seemed that he was leaving but when the light faded, Ares was still there. "I don't know, I still think that black is my color." Taking the final step that put her directly in front of Hercules' stunned stare, Ares purred, "Don't you?"
Beginning with the high-heeled, black leather half-boots, the blue eyes traveled up seemingly endless bronze legs, sleek and muscular, highlighted by the black silk and leather split-panel halter dress. Generously curved hips, a slim waist, lush breasts, softly rounded arms, a graceful neck, and the single most sensuously beautiful face anyone in the room had ever seen.
The full lips curved into a wicked smile. "Well, brother. What do you think?" A sharp nail traced Hercules' jaw. "Am I your `type'?"
"Aresyourwoman" Hercules was near panic. It was still Ares but he she he was... This wasn't happening. He couldn't possibly want his brother, not even if his brother was a gorgeous woman. (He carefully didn't think too hard on that last thought. Nothing good could come of it.)
"No? Not a brunette fan, humm. Let's see, how about this?" Another flash of light and the waist-length black curls were suddenly a fall of copper fire, the midnight eyes lightened to a warm amber. "Better?"
The tazered squirrel look in the blue eyes was all that she could have hoped for. Leaning closer to finish ensuring that Hercules would never enjoy a peaceful night sleep again, Ares suddenly found a bowl thrust in front of her face.
"Here, dearie. You still need a target for *those*," Aphrodite pointedly dropped her eyes to Ares' chest. Her previous laughter was gone. In fact, she seemed distinctly unamused to find herself suddenly outclassed by her brother's tits.
Promising herself to return to this unexpectedly effective way of tormenting bastard-baby-brother, Ares drew one of the folded sheets. <And they say that there is no justice in the world.> Savoring fun that this round so unexpectedly promised, she carefully tucking the paper into `Dite's impressive cleavage, Ares flashed a killer smile. "Well, looks like I've got to see a man about a sword. Later."
Already knowing what she'd find, the Goddess of Love read the name of Ares' target. "Hephaestos."
Materializing just outside the main forge room, Ares savored the immediate blast of heat that swept over her. Heat, smoke, and the faint metallic tang all signaled the unmistakable home of the God of Fire.
<Now, to seduce the God of Making...> An absent thought produced a small, intricately decorated sword. About the size of a Roman short sword, the hilt was a cunningly fashioned dragon, the backswept wings serving as the hand guard. The long tail melded seamlessly into the slim blade, the emerald scales dazzling against the ebony of the metal.
It almost caused physical pain when Ares forced herself to break the sword. It was one of her oldest possessions and only the certainty that Heph could fix it allowed her to do it.
Carefully gathering both pieces of the blade, Ares stepped into the forge. "My Lord Hephaestos. I have need of you." Imbuing the phrase with many levels of meaning, Ares waited for the fire god to appear.
"Who are you and what do you want?" The voice was a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
"You can call me. . . Aloysia," a mysterious smile, "and I'm here to ask your help. One of my swords has been broken and I need to have it repaired."
A flash and Hephaestos stood before her. "Let me see."
Willingly handing over the pieces, Ares causally stepped closer, resting her hand on the god's arm. "Do you think that it can be fixed."
Shifting uncomfortably at her nearness, Heph studied the broken sword. A faintly suspicious frown darkened the Maker's face. "Where did you get this?"
"It was a gift from a friend." Golden-brown eyes smiled seductively into blue-gray. "So, can you fix it?"
"Wonderful. I just love a man who's good with his hands." Ares whispered, allowing her warm breath to brush Hephaestos' ear.
Hephaestos immediately blushed and moved away. "It should only take me a few hours to fix this. Why don't you come back tomorrow to pick it up."
Ares rolled her eyes behind his back. <Heph, you give whole new meaning to clueless. An absolutely gorgeous fucking woman is coming on to you and you're just this side of oblivious. I'll have to remember to mention to Sis that she's losing her touch.>
"I'd rather stay, watch you work. If that's all right."
"Why would you want to stay here? Don't you have things to do."
<Just you.> "I've always been fascinated with how you can create a beautiful weapon out of ordinary metal."
"Most women don't find weapons beautiful."
"Well, I'm not most women." Ares managed to keep a straight face. "Besides, I like weapons, especially swords. They're so -- phallic, don't you think?" Stepping closer, Ares ran her finger over the dragon's back. "Strong, powerful, but only if the user knows how to wield them properly. There's nothing worse than a man that can't use his sword. Unless it's a man wielding a dagger instead. Or a dirk."
Hephaestos' lips twitched slightly before he stepped away to gather what he needed to reforge the blade. Turning back, he shifted self-consciously under the steady amber gaze before limping back to the fire. Ares neither apologized nor looked away and after a moment Heph forgot about hiding his scars. Repairing the blade would be a definite challenge and he found himself looking forward to it.
Being ignored wasn't a sensation that Ares was use to and not one that she cared for. "Can I help?" Desperate times call for desperate measures. "Please?" A winsome smile and a discrete fluttering of eyelashes.
"I'm not sure that." The dimples were brought into play. "I guess it couldn't hurt. If you really want to."
"Oh, I really *want* to. Just tell me what you want to do to me. I mean what you want me to do."
Hephaestos ignored the innuendo and carefully removed the broken section of the blade from the hilt before placing the two ends into the coals. Pumping the bellows to stoke the fire higher, he left the metal to heat. A small cup held already molten metal and a glance was sufficient to refill a nearby bucket with fresh water. He handed the dragon hilt to Aloysia and was surprised with the careful way that she handled it. He was even more surprised when she tore a major section of her skirt away to wrap it in. In spite of himself, he swept the taut thigh with an appreciative glance.
"How's it look?"
The dark head jerked up guiltily. "What?"
"The sword, how's it look. Can you fix it?" Ares grinned mischievously. This was going to be fun.
"Yes, it shouldn't be hard."
"Pity, I like hard things."
"And they like you." Mumbled.
"Sorry, what was that?" Mock innocence.
"Nothing. If you're serious about helping, you'd better change."
"NO, that's all right. I've changed enough for one day."
"You'll ruin your dress."
"This old thing?" Smoothing her hands over her hips to draw the material tight over her full breasts, Ares made sure that Heph fully appreciated her present assets.
Heph turned away to check on the fire. "These are almost ready. Do you know anything about forging metal?" He pulled the white-hot metal from the fire and started the meticulous process of folding the metal back into a single piece.
"Some, I spent quite a bit of time in a forge when I was younger. I always enjoyed the time that I spent there." Forcibly pulling her attention away from the past, Ares smiled seductively. "The glorious heat, the steady rhythm of the blows, the sweat glistening on your body..."
"The shaping of the form beneath your hands, responding to your coaxing, to your will." Hephaestos picked up the description. "Not very many people understand what I feel when I'm working."
"I'm very interested in learning more about how you feel. If you're willing to show me?" Picking up one of the hammers, Ares joined Heph at the fire.
Strength and power combined to create a whole from the broken pieces. Both forms flushing in the intense heat, trickles of sweat sliding over lithe muscles, dampening the hair along their necks and temples, tongues darting out to moisten lips, chests rising and falling in time with their strokes, resisting the urge to speed up, striving together to reach their common goal. The caves echo with the ringing blows of the hammers.
Returning the metal to the fire time and again, heating and shaping, carefully controlled burst of power from both insinuated themselves deep into the blade, strengthening and changing the metal into something more. Something fit for a god. Time is suspended, only the goal matters. A final blow, a moment of silence and then a rush of steam as the finished blade is thrust deep into the water to cool.
Ares raked her hands through her sweat-soaked hair, lifting it away from her forehead. Stretching luxuriously, she savored the thrill of the new-born weapon. Catching sight of where blue eyes were focused, she smiled wickedly. <The appetizer was fun but now it's time for the main course.>
"I can't thank you enough for repairing the sword for me, Hephaestos." She stepped directly in front of the fire god, making sure that he had a excellent view of how her dress clung to her body. "Anything I have is yours. Anything."
Hephaestos almost tripped over the bucket as he stepped back. "It was nothing." He recovered his balance and turned away. Pulling the blade out of the water, he run an experienced look over it. "This just needs to be polished and it will be finished." He set it aside and began clearing up his tools, unobtrusively moving to the other side of the forge.
Ares scowled. <Obviously subtle isn't going to work.> One powerful movement brought her up onto the ledge surrounding the fire. Waiting until Hephaestos was looking directly at her, she stepped forward into the center of the flames.
Fire engulfed her, surging hungrily up her body, wreathing her incandescent flames. Ares gloried in the inferno, spinning lightly in the fire's voracious embrace. The remnants of her dress flared outward giving the momentary impression of wings of flame, and then the last of her clothing was gone, leaving her veiled only by the tumbled curls.
With a predatory smile, Ares swept her hair behind her, allowing it to cascade down her back, giving Hephaestos an unrestricted view of her body. "Are you sure there's nothing that you want?"
Heph licked suddenly dry lips. "Well, maybe a little something wouldn't hurt." He offered a hand to help Ares down only to suddenly find himself standing naked on the ledge surrounding the forge.
"Now now, don't be modest." A quick sweep of his body. "There's nothing `little' about it. Although I do promise it won't hurt. Much." Wrapping her arms around his neck, Ares drew him into an intoxicating kiss.
Ares was fascinated by the experience of being the smaller, more delicate partner. The strong arms wrapped around her waist, the hand buried in her hair tilting her head back to deepen the kiss, the feel of her breasts crushed against the muscular chest. It wasn't something that she'd want every time but maybe... just... this... once.
Without breaking their kiss, she drew him forward into the fire.
It was glorious. Tendrils of flame snaked around their bodies, brushing them with heat, divine flesh transmuting its deadly embrace into a lover's touch.
Hephaestos clenched Ares' hair in his hands, nearly screaming as she engulfed his aching flesh into the wetness of her mouth. Wrapping her right arm around his thigh to provide support, Ares cupped his balls in her left hand, rolling them delicately, ducking her head to bathe them with her tongue, laughing as Hephaestos discovered the erotic torments of hot, swirling air-currents on damp flesh. Tilting her head slightly, she traced the distended vein running the length of his cock with her mouth. Flickering her tongue over the weeping head, she savored the bittersweet flavor of the precum. Lips, tongue and teeth feasted on the banquet laid out before her. Strong suction alternating with teasing touches brought Heph to the edge time and time again only to deny him the final touch.
Having ignored the steadily tightening grip on her head, she was surprised when she was dragged to her feet. A savage kiss stopped her instinctive protest as Hephaestos crushed her to him, ravaging her willing mouth.
As suddenly as he started, he pulled away. Watching her lick blood from her split lip, he ground out. "That's what you get for playing with fire."
"Ya, that'll teach me." He discovered that the chains that he used to support some of his larger works were suddenly dangling against his shoulders. Smiling enigmatically, Ares allowed him to wonder just what she had in mind before pulling his right arm up to and wrapping his hand around the links. Moving slowly to allow him to adjust, she slid both hands around his neck while bringing her left leg up to wrap around the back of his right thigh.
Understanding abruptly, Hephaestos gripped the chain with his good arm, the leverage enough to allow him to support her weight without worrying about his balance. Sliding his other arm down her back, he cupped her ass in his hand.
Once she was sure that he was braced, Ares brought her other leg up and wrapped it around his waist. Avidly watching the dilated blue eyes, she slowly drew him deep inside her body. Pulling his mouth back to hers, she whispered, "Teach me some more."
Strength and power combined as they strove to become one. Both forms flushing in the intense heat, trickles of sweat sliding over lithe muscles, dampening the hair along their necks and temples, tongues darting out to catch the rivulets, chests rising and falling in time with their strokes, unable to resist the need to speed up, striving together, wanting, needing... The caves echoed with their groans as they exploded into climax.
His strength gone, Hephaestos lost his grip on the supporting chain. Their entwined forms dropped abruptly, plunging into -- the hot springs at the back of the cave. Coughing slightly, he brought them to the surface. An exhausted muttering from his neck congratulated him. "Good save."
"It seemed the least I could do. I would hate to see you get hurt. After all, you still have a few more part of the bet to pay off." He leaned back against the side of the pool, running his hands soothingly up and down her back.
"Don't remind me." Ares raised her head and kissed him tiredly.
"You do make a beautiful woman."
Hephaestos laughed at the familiar arrogance. "The draco-sword was a nice touch."
Ares smiled. "Thought you'd appreciate that."
"Why'd you want me to know that it was you? Wasn't that against the rules?"
The look on Ares' face was eloquent about her opinion of the rules. "They never said anything about it. Besides, you're about the only worthwhile god on Olympus. I wasn't going to piss you off for a bet." She considered for a moment. "Well, not this bet."
Hephaestos laughed. "I don't know, I kinda like *this* bet." He drew her back into a kiss.
Part 10: THAMIRIS "Is That a Trojan in Your Pocket, Or..."
"Joey Stefano? Who the fuck is Joey Stefano???!!" Ares demanded, squinting in disbelief at the small sheet of paper. He hated his family. Hated, hated, hated.
When Cupid giggled, the rest of the group turned to him. Embarrassed by the forest of raised eyebrows, he stuttered out an answer. "Uhhh...He's this guy..."
"You're gonna have to do better than that," the dark god growled, "since thanks to one of you depraved lunatics, I'll --" he peered at the second sheet, --‘get paid to have sex with' him??!! What's the matter with him? Is he some kind of freak?" Ares was not amused. His sword fingers itched.
‘Dite stared disapprovingly at her son. "Cupie, does this have anything to do with that weird collection of stuff I found in your room the other day?"
"MOM!! You snooped again?"
"Ever since I found those handcuffs and that collection of ‘art' drawings, I've been a little concerned about you. And I wasn't snooping...I was... just...uh...cleaning." At the chorus of skeptical snorts, she relented. "Fine, I was snooping. And I found a stash of stuff that made even me blush," she said. "Who knew you had a kinky side?"
"Hello???" Ares waved a large paw in his sister's face. "Can we discuss Cupid's sexual preferences some other time? I need to know who this Joey Stefano guy is. What the hell kinda name is that, anyway?" The war god tapped his foot impatiently.
"Sounds like the kind of name someone uses when he's gonna be involved in public sex with a group of people and doesn't want his relatives to know ‘cause he'd be really embarrassed but the pay was so good you couldn't turn it down and you kinda liked it anyway...." Hercules trailed off. "I'm just guessing," he said lamely, slumping lower in his chair.
"Ares, I'm not gonna make this too easy for you. All I'm saying is that you hafta go into the future, to 1990, and to this address." The love-god grabbed a quill from the desk, and scrawled some information on the palm of Ares' hand.
"Have fun, Unc!" Strife snickered, just before an annoyed Ares disappeared in a crackle of blue sparks.
Ares hated the future. It was noisy, smelly, dirty and irreverent. And his pervy little nephew had sent him to Los Angeles, the noisiest, smelliest, dirtiest and most irreverent place in the modern world. Fuck. If he survived this, that bleached-blond wacko would pay.
Pausing outside a grim, windowless concrete building in a seedy part of the city, Ares read the marquis above the door. ‘Studly Stallion Productions.' What the hell kinda place was this? Was Joey Stefano a horse breeder? Tentatively, he sniffed the air. No horses. Only the rank odor of car exhaust and ozone. With a shrug, he turned the knob and walked straight into a screaming argument.
"You can shove your attitude, bitch! Don't you know who I am? ‘Dildo Kings' made me a legend! I'm a fucking star!! I don't need a goddamn stunt cock!" He paused dramatically. "I quit!"
Ok, this was a little confusing. But it could still be about horse-breeding. What did he know about horses anyway? Maybe things were done differently in the future. But this didn't look like any stable he'd ever seen. And where were the stallions?
The other figure raised one manicured hand and waggled a red-taloned claw under the man's nose. "You can't quit--I'm firing your sorry ass!! Good riddance!! My fucking dog could do a better job than you!!! *And* he has a bigger cock!!"
"Well, you better go get him and a pound of Alpo, ‘cause I'm outta here!" He pushed past Ares and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
The god watched him leave. He didn't seem to be wearing pants under his trenchcoat. Or any shoes. Only bright, white socks. This was getting weird. Ares vowed never, ever, ever to play cards with his twisted family again. Ever.
Catching sight of the perplexed god, the woman noted speculatively, "I don't think I'll need Fido after all. You looking for work, handsome?" she asked in a deep baritone, flinging a red feather boa over one broad shoulder
"Does Joey Stefano work here?" the god asked uncertainly. *She* was certainly no jockey.
"You like him, honey? Then you're in luck, ‘cause he's the star of this one, and you'll get several scenes with him. The pay's not great, but when he's through with you, you won't care!" She winked at him. "I'm Chi Chi. The director. Now drop your drawers, sugar, and let's see if the rest of you is good enough to eat."
"What??" Her words didn't leave much room for ambiguity, but the blatant request shocked him. He was a god!! He required worship...Not to mention some control over the situation. Where in Tartarus were those damn stallions??
"Oh, don't worry about it, sweetie. I can see through the leather that you've got what it takes to be a star. Now sign these releases, and then let's go make cinematic history!" When he'd signed the forms, she glanced down at the top sheet of paper, then laughed. "‘Ares, god of war'. I love it!! C'mon, Ares--let's go meet your new best friends!"
He wanted to leave, beginning to suspect just what his sick nephew had gotten him into. But Chi Chi, sensing his hesitation, gripped the god's hand with bone-crushing force and guided him down a long hallway through a door labelled "Studio."
Inside, two men, wearing robes and socks, stood around a set designed like a bedroom.
"Hey guys! Here's Roger's replacement! Isn't he gorgeous? He's a bit shy, though, so be nice to him!"
"Love the leather," an attractive blond man said with a smile. "I'm Dick Cox."
"Ares," the god said. When the man laughed, Ares silently cursed him. Why did they find his name so amusing? It was a strong name, a virile name...A powerful name.
The second man approached. About Ares' height, with a lean, bronzed body, he walked with a smooth grace. Extending one hand, he smiled, revealing deep dimples. "Joey Stefano," he said, staring at the god with sleepy blue eyes. He ran the fingers of his other hand through his silky black hair. "Welcome," he added in the same throaty voice.
So *this* is what got Cupid all hot and bothered. Nice...Very nice. Maybe this was going to be fun after all. "Hi," Ares responded, squeezing the strong hand. His cock hardened.
"Look--they're falling in love right before our eyes!" Chi Chi giggled. "That'll make the action scenes even hotter. Joey, go lie on the bed and pretend to be asleep. Ares, strip, then go wake him up with a blowjob."
That cleared up the "Studly Stallions" mystery...
But what the fuck--sex was sex. *And* he got paid for this! The god smiled. This was getting better all the time. No humiliation here--only the chance to show a gorgeous mortal just what it felt like to fuck the god of war.
He watched with growing interest as Joey opened the robe to reveal a muscled frame and a long, very thick cock. The god's smile grew wider, especially when he saw the tattoo--a shrunken skull--on the man's left bicep. Cool. He'd always wanted one, but Caesar said they really hurt...
At Chi Chi's encouraging hand signs, Ares began to pull off his vest. He expected the group to cheer when it fell to the floor, revealing the chest that launched a thousand dirty stories.
Instead, Chi Chi, a look of concern on her heavily made-up face, touched the dark hair matted on Ares' pecs and stomach. "Yikes! You're a furry one, aren't you? Frank!" she shouted, turning to the camera man. "Razor and shaving cream!"
"What? You can't shave me!" the god exclaimed in horror. "The god of war can't have a hairless chest!! It's...undignified."
"Sweetie, fur is out--smooth is in. C'mon." She hauled him into the washroom adjoining the set. Within minutes, Ares' chest gleamed, smooth as a baby's bottom. He tried not to cry. "It's not that bad," Chi Chi said, patting his arm. "Look!"
The god moved to face the mirror, studying his chest. Without the hair, his muscles showed more clearly. He wouldn't want it all the time, but it looked....kinda sexy. He ran a hand over the bronzed skin, and his nipples stiffened in response.
"Wow!" the woman said. "That's one helluva chest you've got there! And I've seen a lot in my time. Now let's get back in there and blow some cock!" She led him from the room, over to the bed, where Joey lay, caressing his impressive erection. "Now let's see what you got."
Quickly pulling off his boots to stand in his bare feet, the god next hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the tight leather pants, before easing them over his hips. When they dropped to the floor, he kicked them off with a flourish. This time, he got the expected response.
"Oh my god!" Chi Chi exclaimed. "That cock!! It's...magnificent!!"
Gasps and whoops of appreciation followed. Ares, however, ignored them, watching the young man on the bed for his reaction.
Joey's blue eyes widened, and a slow smile played over his perfectly-formed lips. "Now that's a cock!"
Chi Chi watched them speculatively, then grinned. "Ok, let's get started--these two studs are ready to go! Action!"
Joey's eyes closed, and he spread his arms above his head. As Ares began to move over him, the woman suddenly shouted. "Stop right there!!!"
The god froze. What now? Wasn't it enough that they'd denuded him??
Chi Chi fumbled around in a big black purse, pulling out a pair of white tube socks which she tossed to the god. "Put these on, babe," she said.
"What???!!!" the god squawked.
"Look--you can't have a porn film without socks."
"I can't wear socks!" At Chi Chi's stern look, he gave in. "But...why socks?"
Chi Chi shrugged her massive shoulders. The raven curls bounced. "I...I don't know, actually. It's just a tradition. But you have to wear them. All the best guys do."
Ares rolled his eyes, but sat on the bed to pull up the long socks. They reached his knees. "I look like an idiot," he said with a grimace.
"I think you look sexy," Joey said softly, propping himself up on one elbow to study the dark god and his glowing white feet. "Why don't you come here and kiss me?" He lay back against the black silk sheets, arms opened invitingly.
"Don't forget to look lively, boys!" Chi Chi called. "Lots of moans and thrusts!"
As he slid his tongue into the mortal's warm mouth, and felt the thick cock press against his own, Ares didn't think that enthusiasm would be a problem. Especially when Joey began to lick his neck while running his hands up and down the god's broad back.
Sliding his hand to the back of the man's head, Ares pulled him forward for a deep kiss. As the pleasure spread through his body, he managed to ignore the bright lights and camera that recorded his every move. Instead, he focused on the sleek skin under his fingers and against his lips, as he bent to suck the man's tanned nipples.
"That's fucking hot, Ares, but let's see more tongue!" Chi Chi commanded. "That's fantastic! You're a natural! This vid's gonna sell a million copies!"
The god obeyed, strangely excited by the order. He knew that he should be annoyed by the intrusion, but the exhibitionism of the act, the knowledge that people watched and would watch him, was a big turn-on. Every time Chi Chi spoke, he was reminded of that, and it made his cock even harder.
"Joey, suck his cock!"
Ares spread his thighs, letting the man climb between them. His groan, when that practiced mouth started to work his shaft, made Chi Chi cheer.
"That's it, Ares! You love it!"
He did. Joey's wet tongue flicked with lightning speed over the swollen head of his cock, just before the man took it all down his throat.
"Fuck--that feels incredible," the god gasped, thrusting his hips up. He stroked the actor's soft hair as the head bobbed between his legs, and Joey's fingers found his balls, rolling them lightly.
"Ok, he's ready--Fuck him, Ares!"
The god sat up quickly, and prepared to mount the man, eager to sink his cock into that smooth ass.
"Ares!!! Hold on a second, tiger!!"
This was one interruption he didn't appreciate. "What now?"
"You forgot about this." She tossed him a small, square package.
"Trojan? What the fuck...???" He *knew* that he wasn't going to like the answer.
"If you don't know, that's double the reason to wear one. It's a condom, lover."
"A condom?" Ares felt like a moron as the others stared at him. "Uh, what do I do with it?"
"Open it and put it on," Chi Chi said patiently.
Cautiously, the god tore along the dotted line, and pulled out the content. Poking it curiously, he suddenly realized just where he was expected to put it. "You want me to put this....thing on my cock?" Ares demanded in horror. "But my seed...my virility...my manhood..." he sputtered.
"...will be a lot safer with it. Now throw that sucker on, Ares, or you've just had the shortest career in porn-film history."
Joey turned his head. "I'll help you," he said. "It's always better when someone helps you." He took the condom from the scandalized god and began to unroll it down Ares' cock.
"Mmmmm...that feels nice," the god rumbled, as Joey ran his fingers over the latex- covered length, adding some extra lubrication. "But you know, the Trojans lost the war. This thing should be called a ‘Greek.'"
The man laughed. "Call it whatever you want, Ares. Now show me what you can do with it!" He gave the god another quick kiss, then bent down.
Effortlessly, the god flipped Joey onto his back. "I'd like to see your face while I fuck you." He flipped the long legs around his neck, and pushed his cock against the tight ring of flesh.
"Slowly, Ares--put it in slowly. The audience wants to see you slide into him."
He obliged, restraining the desire to shove himself inside Joey's creamy ass. Instead, he followed Chi Chi's dictate, and moved slowly, enjoying the feel of the muscles relaxing around his cock, allowing him access. He stared into the blue eyes as he penetrated the man, and his desire grew. Lowering his head, Ares kissed Joey just as he gave one final, gentle push. "Do you like it?" he asked softly.
"It's fantastic...Now fuck me, Ares. Please."
He did--because even with a hairless chest, a piece of latex on his cock, and white knee socks, Ares was still the studliest stallion of them all.
Back on Mount Olympus a few weeks later, Ares tossed a video and a check for $500 on the oak table before the group.
Cupid grabbed it. "‘Trojan Stallion!'" he cried excitedly. "I haven't been able to get a copy of this anywhere!! It's the hottest vid on the street!"
The war god crossed his arms over his smooth chest, revealing an oddly familiar skull tattoo on his right bicep. The line of white peeking above his high black boots glowed in the sunlight streaming through the window. "Chi Chi, the director, was quite impressed. She's signed me up to do a whole series. I'm filming ‘Return of the Trojan Stallion' tomorrow."
The telltale bulge in his tight leathers confirmed that Ares, despite their hopes, had enjoyed himself in the noisy, smelly, dirty, irreverent future.
Smiling dreamily, the war god walked to the window, staring out at the clear blue sky, thinking of his lithe co-star.
Hercules startled him from the reverie. "Ummmm....Ares...." the demi-god began, in a low voice.
"I was...uh....just wondering....if....maybe there was...uh...."
Ares sighed. "I'll talk to Chi Chi. If nothing else, they can always use a good stunt cock."
Apologies to Joey Stefano and Chi Chi La Rue
Part 11 Jess Invisible Lover
The great hall of Olympus was a buzz with conversation. The gods present all stood waiting in anticipation and Ares stood in the middle of them all, waiting impatiently. He had finally come to the end of his payback, and was down to his last task. After the last one, he didn't think he couldn't handle whatever was chosen.
Strife and Cupid stood together, whispering, while Aphrodite sauntered between them. "Well, Ares. Looks like you're down to one," she said picking up the two bowls containing the names and actions for him to choose. "Let's see what kind of finale you'll get."
Ares' face darkened and his features drew up in a scowl. "Can we just get on with it, please?" he rumbled, crossing his large arms across his chest.
"Easy, big guy. Take a chill," replied ‘Dite. She put forth the first bowl. "Time to pick who you're going to visit."
Wasting no time, Ares reached into the bowl and removed another small piece of paper. He looked down to read the name. He didn't say anything, just stood there with his mouth agape. "You can't be serious," he finally managed, disbelieving.
"Now Ares, you know the rules," stated Athena from her seat next to Hercules.
Well, dad, who'd you pick?" asked Cupid mischievously.
"Let me see," said Strife and quick as lightning, he snatched the paper away from his uncle. Ares, surrounded by so many gods, didn't retaliate. All eyes fell on Strife to learn the mysterious person. He read it quickly and instead of saying anything, he suddenly began laughing--laughs that grated throughout the entire room.
"Strife?" questioned Apollo, floating above on his golden board. "You gonna let us in on it anytime soon?"
Strife got control of himself just long enough to put an answer to the Sun God's question and satisfy the curiosity of the others.
All too soon he lost control again and began to laugh once again. That laughter quickly spread to the rest of the gods as Ares remained where he was, fuming. They all knew he loathed Discord and her whiny, often immature nature. He glared at Cupid, Strife and Aphrodite, who were in the midst of the worst fits of hysterics.
"Quick, let's see what you have to do with Discord," Cupid sputtered out, his whole body racked with giggles, his white wings shaking almost violently.
"Shut up and give me the bowl," bellowed the War God. He grabbed the bowl from Aphrodite and yanked out another piece of paper. Maybe he'd get lucky and have to do something extremely nasty to her. The laughter in the hall quieted down to hear what type of action Ares would have to be involved in with Discord.
Ares opened up the paper, read it and said nothing. But his face betrayed his emotions, and the others knew it must be bad. <Definitely something bad> he thought to himself. He looked back down at the menacing slip of papyrus and read its contents aloud.
"Give pleasure, but do so without any physical contact."
Strife's inanely annoying giggling permeated the surrounds yet again. "At least you won't have to actually ‘touch' her, Unc," he snickered.
Uncharacteristically, Ares ignored him, as Aphrodite came up to him, grinning like a mad hatter. "Okay, off you go now," she said, giving him a little push forward." Before anyone could get in their jibes, Ares disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the rest of the gods to speculate on Ares' current situation.
The water of the hot springs lapped around her as Discord tentatively stepped into the pool. Slowly she eased her way down until the water rose to her shoulders and she sat down on the stone ledge under the water. The water, heated from far in the depths of Tartarus, bubbled comfortingly around her.
She was glad to have a few moments of silence to herself. Being the terror of the mortal world that she was, and trying to keep Strife in line was difficult. Discord closed her eyes and thought of happier things: torture on grand scale, taking over Ares' place as God of War... She smiled and settled in and took full solace in relaxing.
Ares appeared quietly behind one of the large stone pillars that were scattered throughout the dim-lit chamber. It was Discord's personal space, littered with candles and various bottles with different perfumed liquids in each.
He'd wondered how he would fulfill this last task of his, and now a perfect situation had fallen into his hands. Ares moved up slowly towards the pool. Discord never sensed his presence as he moved in behind the pool. <No touching> he had to remind himself. She was lost in deep thought, yet not quite asleep, and Ares was going to use that to his advantage.
"Discord." Her name was quietly whispered in his low, rumbling voice. Goosebumps sprang up on Discord's skin despite the heat of the water. "Don't move, or open your eyes. You will enjoy this so much more, I guarantee it."
As much as she wanted to find out who'd invaded her sanctum, her desire to continue on overwhelmed her. She would have plenty of time later to exact appropriate punishment.
"I know you've imagined this many times before; his hands caressing every inch of your body," Ares began, starting to enjoy himself.
"He starts at your shoulders, his callused hands massaging your delicate pale skin. He's hot and full of fire against your cool and distant. Your silent lover increases the stimulation by laving the back of your neck with feather kisses before moving down to your shoulder blades and back, burning a trail across your skin."
Ares was thoroughly enjoying himself. He was surprised at Discord's self-control and decided to up the degree effort he was putting forth.
"He moves his hands from your shoulders to massage your upper arms for a few minutes before moving forward to cup your full breasts." A low moan escaped from Discord's lips and she pushed slightly forward towards those invisible hands.
Ares continued his ministrations, surprised at his ability to talk his way through this illicit stimulation. "With the pads of his thumbs, he rubs your nipples to rock hard pebbles, sending intense electric vibes throughout your whole body and setting your blood on fire.
"He continues to manipulate your breasts, arousing you more and more. He takes both breasts in his palms, rubbing, squeezing, massaging."
Discord's hands gripped the ledge of the seat as the moans escaping her lips grew louder and her head rolled back. Her breathing began to increase and become shallow. The God of War knew it was time to pull out all the stops and finish this deceptive seduction. He knew he was running on borrowed time; she could wake up at any moment.
"Now your seducer, your mysterious lover, moves his hands down your stomach, reaches the part of you that wants him the most. His right hand captures your sensitive clit, rubbing in a circular motion and adding a bit of pressure."
Discord bucked up violently, rippling the water, which still continued to bubble around her. She gasped aloud and all at once, her muscles tightened up.
"His left hand moved further down and one roughened finger pushed deep within your core. Further and further it goes and you want it so badly. You push forward to catch it all.
"Faster and faster these fingers move, pushing you to unimagined heights. Suddenly, another finger, stretching you even more, joins the one finger deep within you, although the tempo never wanes.
"Your heartbeat is skyrocketing; your breathing is coming in short, unfulfilling gasps. You feel yourself losing the last vestige of control and in the next second you come crashing over that peak..."
The stone cavern was filled with the rasping cries of Discord's wrenching climax. Ares stood by smug in the knowledge that he'd laid not a single finger on her at all. In a flash of light he disappeared, at the same moment Discord came out of her stupor with a shocking jolt, and finally releasing her grip on the ledge. Trying to regain her breath, Discord searched around the chamber, but found no one.
The faces that met Ares back on Olympus were not exactly ones of cheer. Once again Ares had taken more pleasure than punishment or disgrace in his task. He strolled back to the center of the group, to Aphrodite, Strife, and Cupid. He wore a self-satisfying smirk across his dark features.
"The debt is paid. In full," he said pointedly.
"Yeah, yeah," came ‘Dite's response. "Okay so I have to admit, I didn't think you could complete them all."
Ares turned to face her directly. "Maybe you won't underestimate the God of War again." And with that, he headed away from them, leaving.
"You're just going, Unc?" pondered Strife, quite prepared, as was Cupid, for a bit of retaliation from Ares.
Ares stopped and turned back toward the group. "The debt is paid, and I'm finished with this," he replied. Then a smile crept to his lips. "Now I have to go see a god about his sword."
And then he was gone is flash of light.
If you have any questions, contact Thamiris
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