Iphicles kept running, not daring to look back. They would be there.
They all loved him. They would do anything for him. Steal for him. Beg for him. Kill for him. Even die for him. He couldn't get rid of them. Everywhere he went, they would find him. And then he would start running again.
His heart was pounding as he heard them behind, screaming his name. Iphicles knew he wouldn't be able to run much longer. His eyes desperately scanned the forest around him, searching for a hiding-place. Spotting a trail, he raced along it, praying to every God he knew. He could hear them closing in on him.
Twigs cut at his face like small, bony fingers. Ducking his head to avoid collision with a fat branch, the King's eye was caught by a dull gleam of silver: An adornment on an ancient shrine, half consumed by moss and lichen.
Veering nimbly off the trail, Iphicles headed into the abandoned temple, tugging at his cloak. He ducked down, merging into the dark shadows. The chill of the dank stones a welcome relief to his overheated body. Iphicles was sure that they could hear his labored breathing. Burrowing his head down into his knees, he listened. Waiting. He could hear them noisily crashing through the forest.
Still, he waited, as Cupid popped in behind him. Looking down, he frowned, then grinned, and shot the King with an arrow. A euphoric smile came over Iphicles' face and he stood, going outside, not giving a shit anymore. He faced those who had been chasing him, except now he had stripped naked, and his cock stood proudly erect...
With that sweet, stinging pain, Iphicles fell in love with the dark. Oh, its supple, whispery embrace shivered through him, and his hips swayed with desire. This shadowy love purified the king, paled his skin and shined his eyes, gave him pointed teeth to pierce its soul...And drink his enemies' blood.
Let them come.
Voices. He heard voices. Not them. These voices he knew. Iolaus' voice, that would mean. Yes, Hercules' voice as well. They would help. Oh please let them help him. The unfamiliar longings flowing though his body. What do I do attack, run? Iphicles wasn't sure anymore. Dropping to his knees, he begged, "please help me."
Then they were upon him, tearing roughly at his clothes, screaming their desires into the wind. He could Hercules and Iolaus coming to his rescue, but could no longer keep his Cupid-enchanted hunger in check.Their rough caresses raised in him a frenzy equal to their own. Iphicles' didn't know whether he was screaming or …
Dying. Ivory teeth at his throat, between his thighs, drew gushing blood, and the dark caught the echo of his groan, while another flow, creamy this time, mixed with the red on the earthen floor, on grinning demon maws.
No, he thought. Not dying. Being birthed into an ecstatic black heaven.
And the Bacchae feasted.
Frantically, Hercules bolted through the lush underbrush. He could hear the triumphant note of the Bacchae as their howls echoes through the stillness of the forest. Iolaus, following closely behind, swatted at the foliage churning in the wake of the Demigod. Hercules stopped abruptly. The Golden Hunter drew up next to him, staring in horror.
Iphicles dead? Hercules ran and knelt at Iphicles' side. That white face, those dead eyes. Blood everywhere. The spent cock. Had he come as he died? The Bacchae had withdrawn, howling, as if the mere presence of the demi-god had stunned them. Hercules bent closer, perhaps to kiss the cold lips.
Iphicles grabbed him and...
Kissed Hercules along the neck, cold lips meeting searing hot flesh. Alive, he would never have done this, but the hunger was so strong it threatened to overwhelm him. He bit into the flesh and lapped at the free-flowing blood. Hercules struggled frantically, but found that he was held in place by Iphicles' inhuman strength.
Hercules felt his muscles begin relaxing, all except one. His traitorous cock stiffened and strained for attention, all as his lifeblood flowed from him, hot and salty into Iphicles' greedy mouth. Iolaus was stunned by the violence and sensuality of the scene unfolding before him, his hand drifting downward to caress his own throbbing cock ...
Before Iolaus could even begin to react, the blinding flash of light heralding the arrival of a god blinded him.
"He is mine!" A voice the hunter knew so well screamed from behind him as rough hands pushed him aside, reaching for the brothers, pulling them apart. Gently, Hercules was lifted free and Ares took him in his arms, lifting him, snarling at the Bloodsuckers bending Herc's neck, lapping at blood. Turning away, he broke into a sprint. Running past Iolaus, he yelled, "Blondie, unless you want to add blood to your diet, move your ass."
Iolaus followed, wide-eyed.
"Ares what the fuck is going on here? Iphicles is...."
"We don't have time for questions--Run!" Ares shouted as he raced through the underbrush. Iolaus quickly followed. The cries of the Bacchae grew louder and he could hear Iphicles' voice join the throng. Iolaus had lost sight of Ares and could feel the strain of the run began to affect him. He was doomed...
Iphicles, red eyes blazing, flew howling through the forest with his brethren. Gnashing his teeth, the smell of blood inflamed his hunger. He could sense his prey ahead. The sweet, hot, thick, liquid, stolen from him. Anger, possessiveness, hunger, all bubbled within him. There! He could see his prey now, faster and faster he ran.
It was quick and sweet as the mortal was taken as his blood flowed red like a river before his eyes. Iphicles smiled and relished what he had always wanted, what he now had. Iolaus was his. The hunter cried out in ecstasy as his body shuddered at his release, and he cried out, "More!"
Iphicles grinned sadistically as he pulled Iolaus into a final, life-ending kiss. His grin widened as he snapped the hunter's neck before he could experience the true dark glory of the Bacchae. The sound of bone snapping stopped all sound in the forest, and the red-eyed Bacchae howled with rapture. Blood flowed like wine...
"Noooo!" Iphicles screamed, lunging out of his sleep. His panicked heartbeat slowed at the calming sound of his lover's light breathing. He turned, shaking his shoulder. "Ares, I dreamed I was a Bacchae..." He stopped as Ares morphed into Bacchus.
"You will be," came the sibilant promise.
With a howl of terror, Iphicles ran...
Iphicles cowered in a hidden alcove, chafing at his arms, trying to stop shaking. Had he shared his bed, his body, with Bacchus? When had Bacchus switched places with Ares, or was it he, that foul, carnelian, horned creature all along? Bile rose in the king's throat as he fought to keep his breathing quiet.
"Iphicles? IIIIIIIphicles???" His name echoed throughout the building. IPHHIIIIICLLLLLLESSSSSS..........." The voice had an echoing sing-song quality to it. "Come out, come out where ever you arrrrrreeeee." Iphicles scrunched closer to the wall, not daring to move-or even to breath. His heartbeat boomed, louder and louder, almost drowning out the noise of that taunting voice.
Iphicles jumped, turning, seeing Ares...or was it? Grabbing a mace from the wall, "Stay away from me."
Ares, looked at him as if he'd gone mad. Snatching the mace away, Ares advanced...and Iph crawled into a corner. "Don't hurt me...."
Ares knelt before him, holding him, "I won't hurt you, I only...
An ancient lullaby that hurt his ears. They all sang it, soothing him with a refrain like the Sirens' honeyed dirge. Broken on those rocks a thousand times, he'd started wanting the pain. And now the dark god held him, singing more false comfort. Staring into Ares' fire-rimmed eyes, he whispered, "Bacchus. I'm ready."
"You think you are ready to serve me? On your knees mortal bow before your master." Iphicles couldn't help himself as he started to kneel, But somewhere deep inside of him a voice spoke. Fight don't give in not like this. Think Iphicles how do you fight a god?...With another god but which god?
Who could come up against Bacchus as in Ares' body with double the strength? Names came to mind and were discarded: Cupid? Not mean enough. Zeus? Too busy chasing skirts. Hercules? Xena? Who knew where they were right now.
"Ares," Iphicles cried out, not knowing if the god of war could hear him. "Ares, please!"
Bacchus sneered. "That's right Iphicles, call your precious little God. He won't come, you know." He laughed, and knelt beside the mortal with a grace the King didn't think possible, and whispered, "I am going to enjoy this.you will make such a lovely Bacchae, Iphicles.I get so hard thinking of the fun we'll have together."
Bacchus advanced on the terrified King, totally failing to hear anyone behind him. "I think not!" Ares snarled, detonating a fireball against Bacchus' skull.
"Ares! You came!?" Iphicles felt stupid, stating the, oh, so obvious.
"They're closing in, let's move!" Hercules shouted as he approached his brothers.
"Ever have a dream come true?" Ares asked.
"Believe me, this isn't it." Iphicles retorted as he began to run. Ares let off one more fireball and followed them.
The Bacchae were close behind as they raced down the corridor. Iphicles could still hear their seductive song echoing in his mind, urging him to stop fighting and give in. He felt himself weaken...
Iphicles tried to shake the fog forming in his head, to shake off his perverse excitement at the Bacchaes promises of pleasure...and pain.
"Fuck! Dead End1" shouted Hercules
"Clear outm Brother, I'm making an EXIT!" Ares' fingers lit up as blue flame blossomed and leapt forward slamming into the stone wall, which obligingly exploded...
Bacchus was shocked by the sight awaiting him as he followed the three strapping warriors outside the walls. He had expected fearful, trepidatious confrontation. Instead, he found a ménage a trois hot enough to make Hades seem Arctic. Ares thrust in and out of Iphicles, who made up the middle, sucking his mortal half-brother zealously.
They were so beautiful. God, demi-god and mortal moving together in an intricate pattern of love, each one giving and receiving pleasure - for Ares had palmed Iphicles' cock and was stroking it in time to his own wild thrusts. Harsh moans, flesh sliding on flesh, and the sharp scent of sex overwhelmed Bacchus' senses until he heard faint footfalls leading away from the scene. Confused, Bacchus sharpened his god-senses and realized that the image in front of him was a lie. "No!" he roared, swiping a massive, blood-red claw before him. The vision rippled, and he howled, enraged that he'd been tricked by a mirage. "Your ass, Ares," he snarled.
"You wish!" Ares snarled back.
Bacchus found himself facing an enraged War God. Iphicles and Hercules had disappeared. Thunderbolts exploded behind him, and his Bacchae screamed as they burned.
"Iphicles may be mortal," Ares growled. "But he's my mortal. His ass and his blood are mine! Want to go to war over him?" Another thunderbolt...
Bacchus snarled, “Another day, brother.” Stroking his cock. “He’s sweet enough to wait for.”
He withdrew to his temple. Smiling, stroking his cock remembering Iphicles’ tight ass.
“Sweet enough to wait for indeed. Brother, you have many duties and can’t always be there, guarding him.”
He licked a single drop of cum off his finger.
If you have any questions, contact Thamiris