Voyeurism is eroticism, in its most pure and simple form.
The god leans against the barren stone wall of the castle and watches his victim. His arms are crossed over his broad chest and his breath comes slow and rhythmic. He seems to be waiting calmly, and yet, despite the evenness of his breathing, he's uncomfortable; he shifts his stance to ease the pressure on his aching cock.
The man that he watches paces back and forth in the cold room of the castle, looking as if he's lost and doesn't know where to turn. 'He is beautiful,' the god thinks and, observing the man's agitation, is darkly pleased because the most powerful assaults come from within.
Ares' tongue snakes between his lips and his desire grows. He's able to feel his victim's torment and relishes the shear ecstasy of the torture he's forcing his quarry through. The power of those feelings only urges him on to complete his task. So he rests the back of his head against the cool stone and waits.and watches as his prey springs up and starts to pace the length of the chamber again. The man looks overwhelmed by the conflicting feelings of restlessness and exhaustion. Ares knows he doesn't want to sleep, however much his body craves it, because although he's been drawn and tired for what seems like an eternity, if he gives into the exhaustion and lies back, he won't be able to relax. For once his eyes are shut, the vicious cycle will begin again.
And then the dark one smiles as, reluctantly, his victim gives in and sits on the bed and then lies down The man's body is heavy with torment; he pushes his long hair from a face clearly etched with tension and his eyes close.
And Ares almost laughs because it's been the same thing for the past two months; he's manipulated it. The man dreams of rape and anger, passion...and shame. Savage and brutal the god of war in his dream comes and fucks him...no the god rapes him! It all starts with a kiss as the god leans over his bed. He moans, there's a flash of desire as his lips are parted and a warm tongue intrudes. He opens his eyes. The protests that try to escape his lips are muffled and his mouth is forced wider to admit full exploration. Then there's the pain of sharp teeth and finally hot blood trickles from the corner of his lips down his jaw He feels the god licking at the blood and struggles to free himself, but he's powerless against the hands that hold him. He hears only laughter and knows when he meets his tormentor's eyes that he can't hide the desire in them. Then the god's mouth trails roughly down his neck and once again there is pain as he's bitten hard...and more blood.
It's only a dream.
The god watches as the man stirs he can see the sleeper's cock, fully erect, straining, against the soft sheet that clings to his body. He watches it pulse as the man moans, and his hand unerringly finds it even in sleep. Delight courses through the god's body at the thought of breaking this victim. Of making the man desire and want him so much he'll be unable to deny the need. A master strategist always looks for the right moment, the first sign of defeat; he watches.
In the dream the man screams as he's being taken by force, as if the god's cock were burning into him, harsh and fast, searing him, setting his very skin on fire. The man tries to resist but against this god's strength his is nothing. It hurts, the god's thick cock, ripping, tearing, pounding...and once again laughter.
And then...something changes. Slowly at first it spreads to his groin a feeling of warmth, of desire, of wanting, it builds into massive feelings of pleasure. The god knows what he needs and is giving it to him.
"No! Only a dream," the man cries in his sleep, tossing and turning uncontrollably. His desires are building and become undeniable. "Oh gods...yes," he moans.
The man trapped within the dream is unable to awaken, and can only ride out his desires. He thrusts back to meet each stroke of the phantom pounding furiously into him; the encounter is becoming more and more pleasurable. In the dream, the god grasps his shoulders; and pulls himself deeper into welcoming tightness.
Against the wall, Ares purrs, "Yes, this is so, good, so right." at the same time as the dream god. And against the wall, Ares opens his leathers.
In the dream the man is moaning and biting his lips so hard, as he feels the god's tongue trailing across his back, stopping to bite him at the shoulder. He has rolled on his side and he's shaking his head in denial because his weeping cock is throbbing, begging for touch. Perhaps, in his dream, the god reads his thoughts and reaches around to caress it, matching the rhythm of the dream cock sliding in and out of his ass. It seems the dream god suddenly stops; his victim whimpers as though at the release of his cock, he knows he's being teased. Knows the god wants him to beg, and yes he moans again, wanting it more than ever.
Against the wall, Ares strokes himself and watches the man's hand works on his swollen shaft. The thrusting seems to have started again faster and hotter. In the dream they're both screaming and the war god is the first to come, his seed sears into his victim's body, branding him with desire and need. The man is ready to come himself and he rages. The dream god stops the furious hand and lowers his mouth, enveloping the painfully hard cock in a sweet hot darkness that pulls him to his desire. The god takes the full length into his mouth and the pleasure is overwhelming. He pumps harder, needing his release, needing to come. He thrusts to meet the gods' tongue sliding down his shaft, his hips arch and buck as the pleasure washes over him.
With a start the man wakes, realizing his own hand is pumping his cock furiously as he comes all over his chest and screams the name of his dream lover. "Aresssss."
And the god watching in the dark corner of the chamber pulls his hard shaft, biting his lip to keep from screaming his desire's name as he comes into his own hand. "Soon, we're so close." the god whispers to no one, closes his eyes and disappears into the ether.
Left behind, sweat pours off of the man's body; the sheets are sticky where come has flowed across them...across his stomach. He sits up and rests his tired head in his hands.
"Why?" Is all he can mutter, he looks around the sunlit room, it's morning.
Drawn back to the castle knowing he's so close to winning, Ares visits during the days. He giggles as he watches his victim being forced hour after hour to listen to lectures, to other people's fears. They're worried about him. They're trying to help. But no one can talk to him, or even touch him, not his family or his closest friends, not even his brother. No one can reach him now. Only the god feeds the need, the darkness within him, his desire.
He keeps to himself; refusing to help anyone, and refusing to help himself. Neglecting who he is and the responsibilities he once took great pride in. Nothing matters to him; he is beyond their reach because night will come and with it the dream. It's become the only thing he can count on; the brutality, the force, the seduction and the languid pleasure.
Ares knew his target well. And he knew those closest to him. He made sure his prey couldn't possibly turn to any of them. If they only knew of his victim's desire, his brother would lecture him to no end, thinking him crazy. And those who looked up to him would no longer be able to do so. He had lost so much in his lifetime. So much more to lose...so alone. The god planned to isolate him, and he did.
And Ares watches in satisfaction, knowing the man has finally reached his breaking point. Knowing tonight will be different; his prey will finally come to him. So he waits in the man's room, pacing the floor, waiting for their dance to begin. He watches as his victim comes into the room, for the first time heading straight for bed, eager to sleep...for the dream.
"Yes," The god purrs softly.
And the dream begins with the same soft demanding kiss But this time when the dream Ares breaks the kiss, and looks into his quarry's eyes he says, *It's time.*
*All you need do is come to me and I'm yours,* the god purrs and disappears into the darkness.
"Noooooooo." The man wakes screaming into the night. His dream has abandoned him and now he has to face his biggest fear...his desire. He has to leave his family and his friends and confront it on his own.
And he does.
He leaves the castle under the dead of night; slips out the back way unobserved, heading for Ares' main temple in Corinth.
Now Ares paces the stone floor, the 'God of War' in all his majestic glory. The temple is empty tonight; he didn't want his triumph to be disturbed. His cock is hard pulsing in anticipation, he's never been more confident, a true victor. Pleased, he watches the man enter, studies the want and the need shining clearly in those desperate eyes.
He looks down at the supplicant. 'He is beautiful,' he thinks.
This is no longer a dream and the man's words are strong and sure. "I want you, Ares,"
Ares opens his arms. "Then take me," he says. "If you can."
Vengefully, savagely, the man grabs the god and throws him across the ebony altar and Ares offers no resistance. With a knife his leathers are ripped and cut off He hears the man free himself from his own clothes Brutally he's taken, iron fingers dig into his ass and with no preparation a hard shaft splits him. There is pain. Ares needs it, and grips the sides of the altar almost cracking the stone. The god of war can imagine the look of shear ecstasy that must be on his victim's face.
They both need this force...this taking.
It's payment for the pain and the hurt he's caused, although he'd never admit it to anyone. And he knows his victim could admit his feelings in no other way. Faster and harder, the shaft plunders him, and Ares arches his back and pushes against it, lost in the power. A flower blooms inside him as he's is filled with seed and the muscles of his ass contract around the pulsing shaft. The hot, sweating body collapses on top of him, pushing him down.
Arms envelop him.
"I love you, Ares," the man whispers.
At the spoken words the god comes, his seed flowing between him and the raven altar. He closes his eyes tightly. Lust, desire, want, and need. He wasn't sure when it happened but it's past that now, there's no way to deny it any longer. He's tired, turning he kisses the man deeply. His tongue welcomed.devoured. Reluctantly he breaks the kiss and leans into the strong embrace. " I love you too Hercules," he says.