Title: Spoils of War
Content: Het, Slash
Summary: A Celtic Princess is caught between Ares and Iphicles.
He should have killed me.
I don't know why he let me live, the King of Corinth, for now, neither of us is able to escape the trap set by the god. And the trap is so sweet - I almost want to get caught. Except that is what he wants - our compliance - our willing compliance with his desires.
He is so perverse, this god of war. The gods of my own people are much more rational, more moral. These gods of the Mediterranean - I don't know how they still exist. They won't for long - not if Ares is an example. Perhaps he is just an example of godhood at its worst - I hope so. What will happen to the Greeks and their brothers the Romans if they lose their gods? Oblivion for them as a people. A people need gods. They define us and keep us alive and we them.
That is what I was told as I grew up in my own country - now at war with these Greeks and Romans. I am Princess Alynne, daughter of the King of the Arverni Tribe of Gaul, wife of Vercingetorix, the most fearsome warlord of my people. Or, I was his wife while he still drew breath out of those sweet lips. Now, I am the last surviving member of the king's family. They even killed my children, these barbarians. I have such hatred in me for them - it keeps me alive. I plot each night as I lay under his sweating flesh, while he grunts away taking his pleasure in my body. I plot ways to kill him, this god, as I fail to resist the desire he evokes in me. One day I will succeed.
I remember that day very clearly - how could I forget the day my entire family was wiped out?
We fought valiantly - my people are warriors at heart and in body - strong and tall. I fight beside my husband - I was raised from the time I was a girl to wield a sword. As the only living descendent of the King, I was treated more like a boy than a girl, and was taught to ride and fight from my earliest days. I am tall - as tall as many Roman soldiers I dispatched during the battle. And I am skilled - my strength and will make me an able warrior. My husband says...said...
My husband said that I was as strong as some men.
Excuse me. It still hurts, his memory.
Our forces were unable to withstand the onslaught of Caesar's battalions. I don't think any people have succeeded against him. As I stood on the battlefield in horror at the decimation and destruction around me, I felt such conflicting emotions. I wanted to run, to find Vercingetorix, to escape and go to our home and to the children. Yet, I am a warrior, and my duty is to remain and fight to the bitter end. I thought the end had finally come, felt my death was imminent. A darkness gripped my heart as I chopped away at enemy soldiers, as I screamed curses at them and wept as I saw one after another of my best warriors lying dead at my feet. I took the lives of those who I knew would not survive - to send them to their final resting-place free from pain. And when I found Vercingetorix - that was when my will was the most challenged, when my strength almost gave way. I collapsed on top of him and kissed his cold lips. I was ready to die on the spot, with him underneath me. Let them take me! Take me now.
Tacitus came to my side - he is, was my husband's sword bearer. A slave taken during the last foray of the Romans into our land - he has been at my husband's side since. A Roman - at first I thought he must be relishing this day! To see his lord dead, now free to go back to them. Yet, he remained by my side. I wondered if he came to kill me, but no. He came to lift me up and force my sword back into my hand. His loyalty to Vercingetorix was strong enough that he remained with me on that day of death.
We left Vercingetorix's body - his blood was smeared on my hands and face. I tasted it - wanting to remember him in some visceral way, feel some small part of him inside me. I followed Tacitus almost blindly; my tears obscured my vision. A soldier attacked and I dispatched him after a long sword fight. Our swordplay reignited my anger and I fought to avenge Vercingetorix's death. I screamed as I thrust my sword through him and stood with it held high above my head. I called upon my gods to give me strength - enough to kill as many Romans as I could before I too succumbed.
Then another attacked me, one not dressed as the others - he was dressed in a different style of battledress. I did not look at his face, but watched his bulk as he moved towards me, trying to anticipate his moves, and respond as well as I could. He was big, larger than I was, and very skilled in swordplay. I knew I had met my match, that I now fought for my very life. That he would be the one to take it. I would not let him take it without a fight.
My sword flew out of my hands as we crashed together and he knocked me to the ground and fell on top of me, one hand restraining my arms over my head. He sat up while he restrained me in this fashion; his legs straddled on either side of my hips and lay down his sword, replacing it in his hand with a short sharp knife. He was going to slit my throat. Then he leaned down and lay the blade against my neck. It was then he looked into my eyes. I knew that my own were red from weeping for my Vercingetorix. His were almost black with bloodlust. I threw my head back and called out to Vercingetorix. "I am joining you, my beloved!" I screamed. I closed my eyes and waited for the pain, the blood and for my death.
I opened my eyes, and looked into his. As he looked at me, I knew he recognized me - he recognized me as the wife of the Warlord, the princess. Then something inside of him seemed to change, and the darkness lifted from his eyes and I swear I saw them alter before me to a warm amber-brown.
His face, once a mask of anger, now was merely determined. His eyes moved down my body - I was dressed in a set of woman's leathers. They can not hide my feminine form. I thought, oh no! He has decided to rape me first, then kill me. I twisted beneath him, and screamed at him in Latin to kill me now! I did not want another man to be the last I would feel inside me before my death - a man other than Vercingetorix! I tried to thrust my neck against his blade; I spit in his face. I did anything I could to make him want to kill me rather than rape me. He put the knife down and wiped my saliva from his chin. Then he looked around at the battlefield. The battle was over, only a few of my soldiers remained alive, and were being taken away as slaves for the Romans.
It was then I got a close look at him. Copper colored waves curled at his temple and down his shoulders. High cheekbones under dark eyes. Full lips... He was beautiful, this enemy deciding my fate. Deciding whether to kill me, rape me and then kill me, or let me go as a slave. He chose the latter.
Tacitus came up beside us and spoke to this enemy who held a knife at my throat. I could not catch all their words - Tacitus taught both my husband and I Latin and a smattering of Greek, but I have so little opportunity to speak it except with Tacitus, and so can understand only a little. They spoke in Latin first then in Greek - this enemy was Greek. I did recognize one word - death. Tacitus taught us that word first when Vercingetorix saved him on the battlefield a decade ago. "Morte" I knew, and wondered if the enemy was threatening to kill me unless Tacitus put his weapon down. Tacitus complied.
The enemy looked back at me and spoke to me in Greek, but I could not understand - he spoke too quickly. Tacitus told me later, as we trudged along in the line of the god's personal slaves to be taken back to Rome, that this enemy was a king, the King of Corinth. He told Tacitus that I did not deserve to die. That I fought bravely, that I was very skilled. That it was a crime to see women at war. That I should have my life, even if I could not have my freedom. One day I might be free again if I complied with my captors.
He let go of my hands and I lay beneath him, shocked that he was not going to rape or kill me. He stood up and called some legionnaires over to us. They shackled us to each other, Tacitus and I, and led us away to the line of slaves standing off to the side of the battlefield. I looked back as I walked away, and saw a dark figure standing off to the rear of the King. Dark and ominous - that is how I felt when I saw him. He had been watching us, the King and I, and Tacitus. He walked slowly towards the King, and when I looked back, I saw them standing together, talking, and the King's arm lifted up and pointed to me. Then more words and finally, what shocked me the most, the dark figure took the King in his arms and they embraced. They kissed. Two men kissing as a man and woman might. I had heard of such men, but had never known one or seen them together. I did not know how to respond as I stood in line with Tacitus shackled to me.
"I wish I was dead."
"NO!" Tacitus shouted as I decided to run from the line of slaves. I had to find my way to my home - to find my children. I could not leave, could not go to Rome! I pulled Tacitus with me, and wept as I ran, and had to fight with him every step of the way.
"I have to go to my children!" I screamed at him. "No, Alynne! Stay! They will kill you if you try to escape," he yelled. I didn't care - Vercingetorix was dead, as was my father the King. If I couldn't see my children, if they would never see me again, I wanted to die. "Let them kill me! If I can't see them, I want to die," I told him. We made it about 20 paces away from the line before the centurion reached us, his sword and shield brandished. He was ready to thrust his blade through me when Tacitus spoke to him in Latin.
"Stop...King of Corinth...life" were all I could make out of his words.
The centurion hesitated. He had probably been given orders to kill any who tried to escape, yet, if the King of Corinth had spared my life. Still, I saw hesitation in his face, and he decided to kill me anyway, kill us both.
I closed my eyes once again and bared my breast to his sword, welcoming death.
Again, death was denied me. I opened my eyes and saw the soldier's sword suspended in mid-air. A large hand restrained it, and my eyes followed the hand down to the arm and shoulder of the dark man I had seen earlier embracing the King. His form, his face were, if possible, even more beautiful and terrifying than that of the King in his fury. This man's eyes were black, but they were not black from fury - he was calm, restrained, almost humored. His high cheekbones sloped down to a strong jaw, and a dark beard, trimmed close, framed full lips - lips so like those of the King's these two men could be brothers - twins, even. And his massive form - clad in black studded leather, his vest open to reveal sculpted muscles and dark body hair. A huge sword hung at his side, and blood and dirt sullied his battledress. His dark curls were damp with sweat.
I swear that I have never seen a more fearsome figure.
He looked at my bared breast and smiled - his eyes made me feel naked, and I held my arms across my chest in an almost instinctual reaction. I now know who he was, but then I could not have known he was anyone other than a mighty warlord. So another man saved my life that day. The day when my father, husband and children all lost their lives and I couldn't get killed no matter what I tried.
Tacitus spoke to this man as the King joined us. He told them that I wanted to see my children. That I wanted to die if I could not see them once again before leaving for Rome. The dark warlord shook his head. He said that word I knew - that word I dreaded. "Morte," his deep voice intoned. I felt my knees buckle beneath me as his word struck my heart. To the ground I fell, and pulled Tacitus down with me. He tried to comfort me, whispering for me to pray to our gods for their spirits. I did not weep then. There were no more tears inside of me, only the black bile of hatred and despair.
It wasn't the dark warlord who leaned down to comfort me, but the King. He took my arm and raised me up. Tacitus stood beside me, and kept speaking to me, attempting to prevent me from doing something foolish, which, of course, I tried. I grabbed at the King, as if to embrace him in my anguish, and wrested his knife from its sheath at his side. Then I turned the knife into my chest and prepared to thrust it into my heart. The King stood shocked that I had been able to disarm him so deftly, so it was the dark man who intervened and once again denied my death's sweet oblivion. But my hands had gripped the blade and large cuts lined my palms. Blood gathered in my cupped hands and I wiped it over my breast in my anguish. It ran freely down my wrists and arms and I thought, perhaps I'll bleed to death.
It was at that moment I discovered that the dark man was no warlord. He grabbed my hands and held them between his own and I felt his incredible heat burning into me, heat that was almost searing in its intensity. He pulled me close to him, pulled me against his frame and looked into my eyes as he healed me. A smile curved those lips. He spoke to me in Greek and I could barely make out his words.
Tacitus translated for me as the god spoke. "A fighter," Tacitus whispered, "He said, 'I love a good fight.'" Then this god let my hands drop and licked some of my blood off his own hand. Again a smile on his face as he licked his lips and looked at my body from head to toe.
He walked away and the King turned and followed him. His hand pointed at us as he walked toward the tent. Tacitus spoke to me and pulled me along.
"He said we will travel with him from now on. He said we will be his slaves, you and I." There were several other soldiers from my own forces taken alive that he had chosen as his slaves. We stood outside the tent and waited as the god and King went inside. They were alone in the tent for perhaps 15 minutes and I wondered what they were doing - then I remembered the kiss exchanged between the two of them. They were men lovers these two. They were likely having sex - I know I had felt the bloodlust turn to desire as Vercingetorix and I fought together before - it was on the battlefield that we first saw each other and I would have had sex with him right there in the midst of all the chaos, but I was the Princess. He had too much respect for my father and my rank. We kissed, but he pushed me away!
We were married soon after - my father had seen to it.
Now, here I was, waiting outside the tent for my new master to finish making love to his lover, the King. I could hear someone moaning with pleasure. We all could, and I felt my face turn red at the thought of two men together. I had imagined it - knew how they were supposed to do it - as we, Vercingetorix and I, did when I was too near my fertile time. I must admit that my mind attempted to conjure them doing this to each other and the image roused me in a way that made me feel so incredibly guilty. I was yet a widow for less than one hour and here was already imagining these two - god and King. "They are making love," I whispered to Tacitus. "Fucking," Tacitus corrected me, and jerked his head to the tent. "They are fucking. It is not love."
I wasn't sure. Soon, I would learn he was wrong.
End of Part One
Spoils of War Part 2
I thought we would be faced with a long march, followed by a longer ride in a ship, but we were with the god and gods have power. We were transported to his temple in Rome in a flash that left my knees weak and as we arrived in the darkened interior, I had to brace myself against Tacitus. I held my eyes tightly closed as my stomach almost heaved.
The smell of some sweet smoke met my senses and relieved me - this was his offering room, where his supplicants came to make their sacrifice and ask for his indulgence. Against one wall stood a massive throne, ornately carved granite with gilded female warriors in relief who marched across the throne's back and foot. Behind the throne was a huge mosaic depicting some beautiful fair-haired woman lounging on a chaise. Her back was turned to us, and she was naked save a length of fabric draped over her legs. The lush curves of her breasts and thighs were displayed as she turned back to watch us. A crested helmet and unsheathed sword indicated the presence of her lover - a warrior. I had the sense this was a goddess - one that was a particular favorite of Ares, as Tacitus told me he was called by the Greeks. Mars by the Romans.
"That's Venus," Tacitus whispered as he saw me admiring the mosaic. "Mars' lover, his favorite goddess. She is so beautiful, men die at the sight of her. She was meant to bring beauty to humans, yet resisted loving a human male until forced by Zeus to seduce a man. She loved Ares most of all, and he was her slave - he was so enamored with her.
"But," I said, confused. "He was making love...fucking - the King. How... Does he also..."
"He is said to love men and women equally well. Venus he loved the most of all goddesses, but he is said to be a rogue - he sleeps with his soldiers' wives while they are away at war, and has fathered many bastards - too numerous to even count." He smirked and then the smile left his face as he noticed my shock. "He is insatiable. He has his eye on you, my Princess. He likes your hair. Says he has seldom seen such a shade - burnished copper."
I reached up and felt my hair - it was tied back loosely - the fray had almost unleashed it from its bonds. My hair was my bane - thick and wavy, red-gold. The mark of my father's ancestry. It was so thick and unruly that I cut it off with a knife when I was just a young girl. My mother shrieked and gathered it up, convinced it would bring me ill-luck, while my father laughed and rubbed my short hair with affection.
"You are still too pretty with those green eyes to be a boy, Alynne. Short hair will not change that."
As a very small girl, I often lamented my sex to him - asking why he had not made me a boy, why he couldn't change me back. I was certain I was meant to be a boy - I wanted to fight and win. I did not want to be a wife and mother. That, of course, was before I met the young man who took my virginity - he convinced me with his tender mouth and sensuous hands that being a woman was worth the sacrifice.
And my Vercingetorix - I was glad to be a woman when in his embrace.
When I listened to the King or god moaning with such pleasure in the tent, I didn't know who it was - their voices were so similar - I felt safe from them both, as if I was no longer an object of desire. Tacitus' words made me shiver once again. If this god liked both men and women...
The god and King came up to me and stood before Tacitus and I. Ares spoke to Tacitus and he translated for me. "He says he wants me to be your interpreter. I told him you know some Latin and a small bit of Greek, but he said he has no patience and needs me to be with you at all times so he can speak to you when he wishes."
I frowned and looked at the god standing in front of me. He was watching me - my face - to see my reaction to Tacitus' words. Tacitus continued as the god spoke once more, translating almost as quickly as the god spoke.
"He says I must teach you Greek - that when I do, when you can speak well enough to carry on a conversation with him, I will have my freedom."
I looked at him - I could not bear the thought of losing him and being completely alone.
"The god says you are very beautiful - that you are going to please him. He says... that... I am sorry princess. I don't want to translate that." I watched as the King turned to Ares and spoke to him in a harsh voice. The god closed his eyes and held up his hand to stop the King. He then looked at Tacitus and spoke to him, his voice angered. Tacitus closed his eyes. "He says I must translate his every word." His eyes opened and as he looked at me, he shook his head. "I am sorry, Alynne, but he says he looks forward to..." He swallowed. "...to the feel of your ... cunt in his mouth...of his cock inside you."
I turned to this god - how dare he think I would comply with him? I could not restrain my anger as I spoke to him.
"Tell this beast of a god that I will never submit to him - that he will have to rape me. I will never willingly provide him any pleasure. He will have to use force." Tacitus' rapid translation brought a whoop of laughter from the god's ripe lips. His eyes crinkled at me as he laughed in that deep rich voice. The King merely glowered.
"Tell the princess... that I have no scruples ... that resistance... is just as pleasurable to me as compliance. Either will do... It's her choice." Tacitus translated and laid his hand on my arm. I felt tears well up in my eyes at the certainty in the god's voice and the lack of concern he felt for me - for my unwillingness to submit to his desires.
The god reached out and took a lock of my hair in his hand. "But first," Tacitus said, translating for the god. "She needs a bath." Tacitus shook his head. "Oh, my princess. I am truly sorry for this fate. Please remember that you may yet gain your freedom if you are compliant. It is in this god's power to kill you or free you. You must stay alive - you are the last of your line." I looked at him and felt such despair grip me.
"Perhaps all the more reason for me to die."
The god spoke to Tacitus - probably angry that he was talking to me and the god did not know what he or I were saying. Tacitus relayed to them what we had said and the King turn back and looked at me with a frown on his beautiful face. The god stepped nearer and pointed his finger at me. Tacitus voice was low as he translated.
"Tell Alynne that if she doesn't please me, I will turn her over to my warriors. They know what to do with a woman." Tacitus sighed as he translated. "After they are through with her, she will be good for nothing but a bordello." Then the god removed his finger looked at me down his nose. "Tell her I will not allow her to die. I will prevent her death until I desire it. Tell her that if she pleases me, I may just allow her to return home when I am through enjoying her ... gifts." The King spoke to the god once again, and I could tell he was angered at his coarse treatment of me. The god laughed and waved him away. I could see the King's shoulders tense and his jaw tighten. The god spoke once again.
"And now, a bath. You smell." Tacitus translated, a cringe in his voice.
The god snapped his fingers and a large copper tub appeared, filled with water. Three priestesses were summoned and he spoke to them. They smiled at him and looked at each other. One raised her hand and looked me and looked me over carefully. She came to my side and help up my long braid, examining my hair. Then she began undoing my leathers. My hands restrained her - I did not want to bathe in front of all these people - in front of the King, Tacitus and the other slaves, once my own warriors!
I told Tacitus and he spoke to the god. Ares turned around and went to sit on his throne. He was about two paces away from us and looked at me closely while he rubbed his beard.
"He says that you are too modest, - that you had better get used to the eyes of others on your body." Tacitus looked at me with such sympathy. "I am sorry, Alynne. I will avert my eyes."
The god spoke in a loud voice and Tacitus responded, and then turned back. "He told me... that I must watch."
I closed my eyes and waited for it to begin, my trial. The King looked away, as if horrified at the fate that had befallen me. I could not resist. "Tell the King that I hope he is happy with what he has done to me." I hissed, my voice choking with emotion I could not suppress. "He should have killed me when he had the chance. " Tacitus translated for me, and then I heard the King's voice - it was filled with anger. He and the god argued but finally the King was silent. I looked up and saw that the King was standing behind Ares' throne, watching me. He blinked when he felt my eyes on him.
The priestess began removing my garb. She held it up, held it away from her body, her face showing disgust at the blood and dirt that clung to it. I knew Vercingetorix's blood was there mixed with that of all the others I had killed and I wanted to keep those clothes next to my body. I wept to Tacitus for them not to clean the leathers - that his blood was there. I gripped the bodice tightly to me and buried my face in it. I did not care if the dirt and blood stained me.
Tacitus spoke to the god, who watched me closely, then he nodded and waved to his priestesses. One took my clothing and put it carefully away. "The god says he will comply." My eyes went to the god's own and I closed my eyes and bowed my head to him to indicate my thanks. He spoke again. Tacitus' voice was low. "He says he will allow you this indulgence but you had better soon forget your dead husband - you are his now."
The priestess removed my underclothing and I stood naked, my arms failing to completely cover my breasts and groin. I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment - I was on display for all eyes to see. I was a slave - a piece of property. He could do with me as he wished, this god. This I would learn all too well over the next days and weeks. I could not restrain my tongue - he looked so self-satisfied on that throne, watching the priestess disrobe me, a smile spreading on his lips as I tried to cover myself.
"Tell him that he is right - I am his now. But you tell him this," I said as tears of anger and embarrassment slipped down my cheeks. "I will come to know him as a god through his treatment of me. Tell him that how he treats me, how he exercises his power over me will reveal what is inside of him. I will judge him accordingly."
Tacitus turned to the god and spoke. A dark look passed over the god's face as Tacitus translated for me. The King bowed his head.
"He said to tell you that you will soon be judging yourself." My eyes met the god's and one corner of his mouth rose in a smile.
The priestess took my hand and led me to the bath, helping me as I stepped into it and sat down, submerging completely. When I emerged, she began washing my hair, and then took a cloth and I washed my face. The god spoke again and the priestess smiled as she took the bar of soap in her hands and began to lather up. "The god wants the priestess to wash you. You are to stand and comply." Tacitus said.
"Tell him I can wash myself," I replied, my face red once again at the smile of pleasure on the priestess's face. The god laughed when Tacitus translated for me, and spoke, his voice sarcastic.
"He says he KNOWS you can. That is not the point. He says he is rewarding his priestess for all her hard work - for her expert performance..." Tacitus sighed as he translated. Then I watched as the god motioned for the King to come to his side. He spoke to the King and waved his hand. A chair appeared at the foot of Ares' throne and he motioned to it. Iphicles sat down. He could not escape watching me now, as I knew he tried from behind the throne.
"I won't comply." I insisted. Tacitus spoke to the god, not looking at him. Ares shrugged, and pointed his finger at two of my former warriors standing off to the side watching me. A flash of blue light sped from his finger and enclosed the two. Screams of pain emerged from them both and they fell to their knees.
I stood up.
The priestess smiled at me and continued to work up a lather in her hands. Then she began washing me, starting at my shoulders and arms. Her hands were soft yet firm on my flesh. She stood in the tub with me - her clothes soaked to the hips so she could get a better position, and her hands moved down my back and slid softly down to my buttocks. Her face was only a few inches from mine and was flushed with desire. I closed my eyes in shame that a woman was touching me this way, that a woman's face was filled with the desire I was used to seeing on Vercingetorix as he washed me. Her hands moved around to my breasts, and she stroked them, her fingers pinching my nipples to hardness. I can not deny I felt some arousal at her touch - I kept my eyes open then, as if to reinforce the fact it was a woman doing this and not a man - so that some of the desire could be dampened. It was only partially successful.
I turned to the god as her fingers moved lower. "Tacitus!" I wept, "Tell him... ask him please to stop this. He is humiliating me."
Tacitus spoke to the god and the god smiled as he replied. Tacitus turned to me. "The god says either she will wash you or he will. It's your choice." I looked at Iphicles and could see the desire plain on his face as well. They wanted to watch as this priestess washed me.
"Him." I finally cried. My breath caught in my throat as I felt her fingers part my flesh. I closed my eyes as I heard the sound of footsteps on the hard stone floor. "The god says to keep your eyes open." I opened my eyes to see the god helping the priestess out of the tub. He kissed her and whispered in her ear, and watched as she went off. Then he took her place in front of me, his leather clothing wet from the bath water. His dark eyes burned into mine and I felt so vulnerable, as if I was some animal caught in it's predator's jaws, my belly bared to his fangs. His gaze made me fell so exposed - beyond being naked.
He smelled so... so male, standing there, close to me. So masculine. A mixture of musk, sweat and leather and...I am not sure what the scent was - I had never smelled it before. It was arousing - I could not control the arousal it evoked in me. It was as if the smell was a soft hand stroking my flesh, causing instant swelling inside of me. He didn't even have to touch me to arouse me.
He reached down and took the soap in his hands and worked up a lather. Hands strong and firm gripped my own and he raised my arms up and looked at me, looked at my breasts, my groin, my arms, my face.
"He says you are very beautiful."
Ares turned to the King and spoke to him, and Iphicles nodded and adjusted his position on the chair. I imagine he could not help but respond to the sight of me with the woman and now with the god himself. I looked around at those in the room with us - the two priestesses smiled as they watched their god begin stroking my body with his soapy hands. The other slaves, who once looked upon me as their leader's wife and a fellow warrior now only had expressions of mute desire as they watched me humiliated in front of them. Iphicles watched the god's hands on my breasts, the god's fingers teasing my nipples. He could not look me in the eyes, and I was glad, for I could not suppress my moan as Ares' hands pushed my thighs apart and found my flesh. Strong fingers stroked me, stroked my now-swollen clit. I could not help but feel desire nor could I stop weeping as he took control over my body and its responses. My knees felt weak as I stood there - I fell forward and had to brace myself against him, my hands reaching out to his shoulders. His face was beside mine, his lips near my ears, his curls brushed my cheek. He said something to me in that deep voice, but there was no smile on his full lips now, no humor in his face.
Tacitus said nothing, did not translate, and the god turned to him and spoke.
"The god says... he says ...you are almost ready to.. ready for him." The god looked quickly back at Tacitus.
"Ready to fuck him."
Ares spoke to me and pulled me against his body. I listened as Tacitus translated.
"He says that it is now your turn to bathe him."
My eyes closed and fresh tears filled them. I looked at the god and felt so much hatred for him, for his arrogance, for his abuse of power. For making me desire him, even as I hated him. And for him knowing that I desired him.
"Tell him," I began, "ask him, please," I begged, my voice breaking even as I felt desire for him rise in me. "Please don't make me do this!" His face was stone as Tacitus translated. "My husband only died a few hours ago." I continued, looking for some shred of sympathy in him. "Don't make me do this!" I looked deep into those black eyes and saw no compassion, none. I turned to the King - his eyes were closed, his head bowed. "Why didn't you kill me!" I cried, shamed that I could respond to the god when my husband was barely dead. Iphicles looked up as Tacitus translated. His jaw tightened.
"The god - he says to be quiet and try to enjoy it," Tacitus whispered. "He says he knows you already are. He says..." Tacitus stopped translating as the god paused, trying to choose the perfect words to humiliate me further.
"He says you will soon forget Vercingetorix when you feel ..." Tacitus stopped and swallowed, then looked away in shame, his voice so low I could barely hear it, "...when you feel his tongue on your flesh, his...cock inside of you, making you cum." Even before I knew what they meant, the sound of his deep voice saying those words aroused me even further. When Tacitus translated, I felt a shock right to my flesh.
"He says to undress him."
I began removing his leathers starting at his vest and my eyes could not help but linger on that bronze skin, those sculpted muscles in his chest and belly. His dark body hair curled so deliciously down to his groin. It drew my attention lower, drew my focus on the leather pants, tight, straining against his bulge. My hands were shaking with a combination of anger and desire as I untied his pants and pulled them down over that bulge, over his sinewed thighs.
He was flaccid, but I couldn't tell at first since even in this un-aroused state, he was larger than my Vercingetorix when fully erect. I believed from its length and girth that he must be erect, but that there was something wrong with him. Then I knew he was not even aroused. As recognition flooded through me, I looked up at him and saw his smile. He knew I was shocked at the sight of him. At the knowledge of his size, of how large he would be when erect. With a wave of his hand the pants vanished from my grip and he handed me the soap.
We were standing so close, I could feel his hot breath on me as I bowed my head in an attempt to avoid his gaze, so cruel and powerful. I took my time with the soap. When I had more than enough lather in my hands, I heard his impatient command and did not require Tacitus' translation.
"He says to wash him - now. No more delaying."
I took a deep breath and held it in, as if this would give me strength and stop my hands and body from shaking. When I touched him, touched the skin on his pectoral muscles, I could not help but exhale as I felt such warmth from him, a surge of energy from him moved through me. He felt as if a furnace burned within. His skin was smooth and hot under my touch, and I must admit, I was lost in the feel of it after only a moment. I felt such desire as I touched him, his body felt so good under my hands. They moved almost on their own over his shoulders and down his arms, then back to his chest and over those brown nipples. When I touched them, I heard the sharp intake of his breath and I could not help but linger there, stroking them, feeling them pucker in response.
Then my hands moved down to his belly and his cock rose, thickening, moving up before my eyes. I could not take my eyes off it, off his cock as it became erect, massive, jutting straight up. My hands stopped their motion and some sense seemed to penetrate the fog of desire that impelled me on. I closed my eyes.
When he spoke, his voice was deep and dark with lust. Tacitus' voice mirrored the god.
"He says to wash him. To wash every inch."
I looked up into the god's eyes. My own were filled with tears of humiliation. "Please," I whispered to him. "Please...don't make me do this..." Tacitus voice was soft as he spoke to the god. The god's face was stone, unmoved. If anything, he was even more determined to have me follow through with his desire.
"Every inch," was his reply.
I knew then I would have to do something, something to retain my sense of worth in the face of this trial. My mind searched for some image, for something to give me back control. As my hands reached out to touch his massive cock, I found it. An image of a dark man standing over my Vercingetorix, his sword thrusting in my husband's chest. A dark man dressed in black studded leather, with dark curls and beard.
Ice filled me, stopped my lust almost in its tracks. When my hands touched him finally, I no longer felt his heat, I felt nothing. He gasped as I took him almost roughly, and began stroking him with both hands. I felt as if I was stroking wood, stone. Not flesh. Not a god's cock. He shuddered as I stroked him, as my insistent hands moved on him, the soap making them slippery. I was relentless in my caress, and soon he was breathing fast, his nostrils flared. Caught up in his own lust, he didn't seem to notice my lack. I stroked him until he cried out, and I watched, triumph in my heart, as he bit down on his full bottom lip and his eyes closed as his orgasm began. His cock spasmed in my hand, pulsed as his creamy white semen spurted out, covering my belly. I must admit that the sight of his semen streaming out onto my own skin aroused me once again as did the power of his response. His whole body shook and his hands gripped my shoulders for support. He grunted with each spasm, as each pulse sent more semen onto me.
He leaned close against me as his pleasure subsided, as his cock still throbbed in my grip. He rubbed it against me, smearing his semen on me. I felt my body respond anew to the feel of his skin, his heat against me. He reached down and took his semen on his finger and before I could turn my face away, before I could remember the image, he pushed it up into my mouth. I sucked it off his finger willingly. His salty taste was familiar yet there was something about his semen, some other taste to it - it almost drove me wild with desire and I could not help but crush myself against him, rub my groin against him even as I wept for Vercingetorix. My eyes lifted to his and I saw his triumph, his ascendancy over my feeble attempts to deny my attraction to him.
"I hate you," I whispered even as my mouth reached up to his, as my tongue parted those full lips and found his. I heard the King speak to Tacitus - probably wondering what I had said. Tacitus replied.
Then I was lost in the feel of the god's mouth. His full lips felt so smooth under mine, hot and yielding as my tongue licked them hungrily. He seemed so pleased with my lack of control, with the force of my unleashed desire. He whispered to me, something that Tacitus couldn't hear and I knew they were words of triumph. One strong arm went behind my back and the other lifted me up and carried me out of the tub to the altar which was covered with offerings. They were gone with one sweep of his arm and he lay me on top of the cold marble. I shivered against it even as I felt the heat of his body as he leaned against me and kissed me. Then he spoke to Iphicles and the King came and stood beside us. Ares rose and spread my legs, while one hand opened my flesh so he could look at me, his fingers probing me. He bent down and those lips took me, took my flesh in and his tongue burned into me, stroking my swollen clit. Iphicles' eyes were half-closed as he watched Ares licking my flesh. Ares' fingers thrust into me rapidly, adding to my pleasure and I gave myself over to it, I closed off the world, the knowledge that we were being watched by all those in the room. Soon, I felt my body shake and I gasped out as my orgasm started. I wept as he continued to lick me, his tongue insistent even as my muscles gripped his fingers. Finally, he stood up and smiled at me, pleased with his ability to make me lose control.
The god spoke to the King, and pointed to the space behind me. Iphicles shook his head and said something angry, but the god merely laughed and turned to me, smiling at me as he rubbed the head of his cock against my flesh in an attempt to arouse me again. Then something gripped me, some fear, fear of him entering me, hurting me. He was so huge I couldn't imagine him fucking me without extreme pain.
I struggled up as all my desire fled and tried to escape. The god spoke to the King and then Iphicles moved to the other side of the altar and hooked his arms through my own, holding me in place. I cried to him to stop - to let me go, but he only bent down and whispered in my ear, his deep voice warm and soothing. When Ares thrust his huge cock inside me, I was unprepared - I did not expect his size and screamed in pain as his cock ripped me open. Iphicles' arms gripped me more tightly as I tried to escape, escape from the incredible blinding agony. The King looked up at Ares and said something in a low voice and I could see his brow was furrowed in anger. Soon there was no longer pain - soon there was only the feeling of flesh against flesh. His hand stroked me then, and soon, sooner that I thought possible, my body surged with renewed desire.
The god raised his hand to his mouth and I saw there was blood on his fingers - my blood. He licked it off and smiled at me, and I closed my eyes, horrified yet aroused at the idea. I relaxed in Iphicles' grip. Why fight? There was nothing I could do. Iphicles own grip relaxed, but he still held me. Each thrust of the god inside of my body forced me against Iphicles, into his arms, his form bracing me. The god and King watched each other across my body and it was then I felt that the desire was also flowing between them and not only between them and me.
I realized that was his wish, his intention. That I should desire him, that Iphicles should desire me and him at the same time. As my back arched in ecstasy and another orgasm coursed through my body, Iphicles bent over me and watched me, watched my face as I came. As aware as I was of his eyes on me, I could not control myself and cried out, gasping as Ares thrust in me. The god said something to Iphicles, his voice strained and reflecting his own desire. Soon, he was thrusting rapidly inside me and I heard him grunting as he, too, came. He leaned over me and panted, his sweat dripping on my breasts. I lay mute beneath him, stunned at what had happened, horrified at my own weakness. When I looked up I saw the incredible expression of desire that passed from Iphicles to Ares. The god smiled and leaned up and over to Iphicles. The King, too, leaned forward, and their mouths, ripe full mouths, met over top of me.
Iphicles pulled away from the god and whispered something to him in a low, angered voice. The god chuckled and replied, and when Iphicles heard his words, he closed his eyes and shook his head. Then he let go of me completely and went to Ares, who withdrew from me and stood waiting as Iphicles put his arms around the god. Ares pulled Iphicles to him and they kissed passionately. Then Iphicles spoke to the god once again and the god shook his head.
I now knew his game - Ares was now going to make love to Iphicles, but like me, Iphicles did not want to perform in front of the audience surrounding them. He was as powerless as me to resist this god. Ares pulled him on top of his body as he lay back on the altar and Iphicles mouth moved down the god's body to his still erect cock. My gods, I couldn't believe Ares! He had just had three orgasms - one with Iphicles on the battlefield less than an hour ago, and then two with me, yet was ready for more.
Tacitus was correct. This god was insatiable.
Then, before my stunned gaze, I watched as Iphicles' mouth took the god and sucked him, licked him. I was unable to look away, no matter how much I wanted to. This act, which I performed willingly on my Vercingetorix, was now being performed on the god by this King, his lover. It aroused me once again - the sight of these two men finding pleasure in each other's bodies. Iphicles pulled off the god's cock and spoke to him in a deep voice filled with lust. His hand stroked the god, stroked his shaft and then his heavy balls. Ares replied, his voice soft. Iphicles returned to Ares' cock and licked the head, licked the fluid that welled up under his caress. The god's eyes closed with pleasure and he moaned as Iphicles once again took the cock into his mouth. Yet another orgasm racked the god's body and I watched, my throat choked with desire, as Ares groaned and shuddered. Ares lifted his head to watch as Iphicles swallowed his semen.
Then Iphicles pulled the god's legs up and pushed them around his waist. He untied his pants and took out his own cock, now hard and almost as impressive as Ares'. The god waved his hand and Iphicles' clothing disappeared. He turned and watched me take in Iphicles' beauty, the taut muscles under his smooth bronze skin. I swallowed and felt my face flush as I looked at Iphicles. The god seemed pleased that I found Iphicles desirable. He held out his hand and a flask of some oil appeared in it, then he poured it over his own flesh and into Iphicles' hand. I watched, my breath caught in my throat as the King rubbed the oil over his cock and over Ares' own flesh. I sat up - I wanted to watch this - my curiosity and desire was more than my sense of shame.
Iphicles slipped one finger into Ares' anus, then two, and finally three. They watched each other, their eyes joined, faces mirroring the other's desire. When Iphicles thrust his swollen cock inside the god's body, I gasped along with Ares. I could not take my eyes off them. I could not believe the beauty of their bodies moving together. Iphicles' hand stroked the god's cock as he thrust inside Ares' body and both men began to respond with more intensity to the other, their breath more rapid, their faces flushed. Iphicles spoke to the god, his voice soft and seductive and the god replied but I could tell by his voice, choked and less controlled, that it was he who was closer to his orgasm. Iphicles closed his eyes at the sound of the god's lust and thrust more rapidly, and as Ares cried out, and grunted as he ejaculated in Iphicles' hand, the King gritted his teeth as his body began to shake. His deep voice moaned as he shuddered against the god, and I knew it had been his voice I heard from the tent.
As I watched them collapse against each other, their bronze limbs entwined, their mouths joined, I wanted them both so badly. I wept for myself, trapped with these two lovers, caught in the god's web - my body betraying me, betraying my opinion of myself, my morality. After all the hell of this day of death, my loss, my heartbreak, my flesh responded to this god and King and all I could think of was my own body lying in between theirs.
But that is what he desired.
End of Part 2
Over the following three weeks, Tacitus and I spent almost all our time together practicing Latin and Greek. He refused to speak my own language - except when translating the god's own comments or commands, and soon, out of necessity, I began to remember more of what he had previously taught me and pick up new words and phrases. Still, I was a long way off from fluency - I could barely carry on a decent conversation with Tacitus, let alone Ares. I think I even purposely slowed my pace of learning. I could not bear for Tacitus to leave me - leave me alone in this place with the god.
Every other day, Ares called me to his throne room and questioned me, testing my conversation skills, and each time, he sent me off with a wave of his hand and a frown. "Learn more quickly," he grunted.
And that was it.
He didn't touch me, he didn't speak to me other than to question my progress, he barely looked at me. It was as if I didn't exist. It was as if that night had never happened.
Then one day, everything changed. He called us into his throne room and Tacitus and I entered with trepidation. "He's not happy with the pace of your progress," Tacitus whispered. "Gods," I replied, "I've only been at if for three weeks! What does he expect?"
But inside I felt such guilt. I could speak more fluently that I indicated when Ares questioned me. I just didn't want him to let Tacitus go. When I looked at Ares sitting there in his black leather, examining the blade of the sword in his hands, I felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through me. He was angry - his face had that determined set to it, his jaw tight. He stood up and came over to me, stopping just a pace away, close enough for me to smell him, his masculine odor, leather, salty sweat. I tried to look inconspicuous as I inhaled his scent. He smiled at my feeble attempt.
"Alynne," he began, the smile falling from his lips. "I would like to take a walk in the forest today. There are many forests in your country. Describe the forest where you live."
I understood most of the words - I knew what he was asking me. I could even begin to construct a phrase in reply. I feigned difficulty understanding him. "Forest?" I stuttered, as if I did not understand the word. I looked at Tacitus. His eyes widened, his eyebrows raised as if he was trying to encourage me.
"A forest, Alynne. A place filled with trees. Describe the forests in your country."
I tried to form a sentence about how I used to walk a lot in the forest surrounding my father's castle, but purposely mixed up the order of the words in the reply. I did not decline the verb correctly. I shook my head in feigned desperation.
Ares held the tip of the sword to Tacitus' throat. Tacitus translated as the god spoke. "The gods says..." Tacitus began and then closed his eyes as he listened to Ares speak. The god had a smile on his face. "He says I am a terrible teacher. Since I failed so miserably at teaching you to speak passable Latin, our bargain is canceled. He has no use of me as a slave, and as a traitor to Rome, Caesar will be pleased to turn me over to the games." He could not speak for a moment. "He says he'll have to find a new teacher for you."
"Damn you, you beast." I cursed him in my own language. Then I found the proper declension of walk and reordered the words in my reply correctly. He went back to his throne, but I caught the smile of triumph on his face as he turned away from me.
He spoke to me when he sat down, still turning the shiny blade around in his hands. It was something to the effect that I would soon learn he could not be fooled that easily. It took me at least a minute to translate in my own mind.
"The god wants to know how you are progressing with your Greek." It was, of course, much worse, since Tacitus had taught me less of it, preferring to focus on Latin, the language of Rome. Tacitus informed the god that while I understood a lot of what he said in Greek, I was unable to speak it very well. I hadn't had enough practice in conversation to speak very well with anyone. Tacitus closed his eyes when Ares replied, his voice loud and angered.
"The god says you need to speak Greek as well as understand it. Again, he says I have failed in my task. That I am to go off to the games anyway."
In a flash of blue light, Tacitus was gone, and I was alone in the room with the god. His face was dark, cold. He looked at me from under his brows which were furrowed in anger.
"Please, lord." I cried, trying my skills in Greek, pushing them to the limit. "Allow his life. I speak Greek soon."
"He's gone, Alynne." Ares looked at the blade very closely, running his finger up the sharp edge, drawing blood and then licking it off his own finger. A smile curved his full mouth. "You have a new teacher."
A wave of his hand brought a startled Iphicles into the room in front of the god, a set of papyrus in his hands. He swayed for a moment, and closed his eyes. "Ares," he said, his voice tight, his anger barely controlled. I could not make the rest of his words out very well - something to the affect that he needed time. To be warned. Ares dismissed the King's complaint with a shrug. Iphicles' eyes opened finally and he turned when he saw me standing there, beside him.
I didn't look at him or reply. I still felt incredible anger at him for saving my life and condemning me to this god's whim. As beautiful as he was, he was weak against this god, I knew that. He could not help me, even if he wanted to. He just gave in to the god's wishes, after a show of his anger, but he always gave in.
"No the King," I said, my voice low. It was not a request. It was a demand. Ares actually laughed at this.
"She hates you." he said to Iphicles. I then heard him say something like, he couldn't blame me, not after what Iphicles' had done.
Iphicles frowned at the god and spoke in a low voice and rapidly - I couldn't hear everything he said. Something like, too much hate already, for the god to keep quiet.
How he saved my life, gave me over to the god as a slave, let Ares rape me, held me down while he did?
Ares told Iphicles to take me to Corinth and teach me Greek. Something like, he didn't want to see me again until he could carry on an ordinary conversation. "I am not a teacher," Iphicles' complained. The two argued, their words too fast for me to comprehend the meaning, other than Iphicles mentioned Tacitus several times. He appeared after the god sighed, and waved his hand. Tacitus almost cried out as he shuddered from the shock of the transportation. Ares spoke to him, and then Tacitus looked at Iphicles and thanked him in Greek. He turned to me. "Ares says I can still translate, to help Iphicles with the task of teaching you Greek. Then, if we both are more successful, I can go free."
I nodded, thankful that Tacitus would still be with me, and that he hadn't been condemned to the Roman games, where man and animal or man and man fought to the death.
I heard Iphicles speaking to the god in a low soft voice, probably thanking Ares for his willingness to spare Tacitus' life. Ares smiled. Then, to my shock, I watched as Iphicles' clothing disappeared and he stood naked beside me. I couldn't keep myself from looking him over - his skin was so smooth and bronze, his musculature so well developed, so masculine. I could see his genitals in profile, and remembered how well endowed he was. Larger than my Vercingetorix. When he felt my gaze on him, he covered himself with his hands and spoke angrily to Ares. Ares laughed at his words and smiled.
Then Ares stood up and came to stand in front of Iphicles. "I want you," he said, his voice thick. I turned my face away, as much as I would have liked to watch. Of course, this was not to the god's liking. He spoke to me, his voice deep and dark. "Alynne. Watch."
"Pig," I replied in Greek. Tacitus looked at me, a frown on his face. "Alynne, don't invite his anger." he whispered.
"Tell the god that he is nothing but a brute animal, and that I will not fall again to his depths of depravity."
Tacitus shook his head. "I won't say that, Alynne. I'll make something else up. You asked for my life to be spared - the god told me. I will not help you destroy yours." I knew he was right, but couldn't restrain myself. I spoke softly and with a low voice in the hopes that Ares would be too busy looking at his lover to pay attention to me.
"I send a curse on him, he is such a depraved beast. Why must he take his pleasure in front of others? This is a private thing, between the lovers themselves." Even as I said these words, I knew in my heart that I would secretly enjoy watching them make love. Seeing Iphicles naked, with the god fully clothed standing in front of him was strangely arousing. It made Iphicles look so powerless, his nakedness. He was on display for me to enjoy. What would Ares make him do - service the god sexually?
Ares turned to Tacitus. He demanded to know what I had said. Tacitus made up a reply and the god extended his arm to Tacitus, gripped his throat and lifted Tacitus up as if he had no weight. I heard Tacitus' gasp out the proper words and Ares let him drop back to the ground.
Ares spoke again to us, and Tacitus translated.
"The god says he likes to have others watch him take his pleasure, that Iphicles is used to it, he just doesn't want you, Alynne, to watch." I heard Iphicles say something to Ares, his voice deep and angered and the god laughed in reply. "Tell the god I don't want to watch." I said, unable to hide the disgust or the desire in my voice.
"The gods says to tell you... that you can lie to yourself, but not to him."
I hated him, this god. Why did he want me to watch them? To humiliate his lover?
"Why stay?" I asked Iphicles in Latin. "Why not leave? You are King." I didn't expect a reply - my questions were rhetorical
Iphicles turned to me, his face red with lust and shame. He shook his head and turned back to the god, his eyes closing. "You can't understand." Ares smiled at Iphicles and reached out to touch the King's cheek. His hand trailed down from Iphicles' jaw to his collarbones, sliding over his pectoral muscles to his belly and lower, pulling Iphicles' hand away from his genitals.
Iphicles looked back to me then, his face still flushed, and I could tell he was trying to accept this whole scenario, to just comply. His eyes closed as Ares' hand surrounded his swelling cock.
"Just give him what he wants, Alynne." He took a deep breath and his arms reached out to the god's shoulders for support. He leaned in to Ares and their lips met, their mouths searching each other hungrily. Iphicles' cock grew under Ares' touch and soon was fully erect and pressed against the god's black leather. Ares ground his own pelvis against the King, his hands moving around to Iphicles buttocks, squeezing them and pulling him against his body. Iphicles' hands went to the god's belt, but the god held him back and bent down to his knees. He looked up to Iphicles' face and spoke in a soft voice.
"You are so beautiful."
I looked at Iphicles. He was beautiful.
Iphicles' hands went to Ares' curls as the god's tongue snaked out to lick the head of his cock, his hand caressing the thick shaft. Iphicles sucked in his breath as Ares' mouth closed around him, and began to move. As I watched the god service Iphicles, I felt such sympathy for the King - perhaps he was correct. Perhaps the best course was to submit and let the god have his way. Blank your mind, prevent it from judging what was happening to your body, allow the pleasure to come through, if that was what the god needed, demanded. It would soon be over, a bad memory, something to forget.
I could not help but turn to Tacitus, my voice breaking as tears filled my eyes. "Tell me that I'll see my home again! Then I might survive this." Tacitus looked at me with sympathy, but could only hold his hands up and shrug.
I looked back at the two - Iphicles was thrusting in the god's mouth now, his fingers tangled in those dark curls. Sweat was beginning to form on his neck and back, and ran in streams down to his straining buttocks. His face showed such pleasure, his full lips parted, his tongue slipping out to lick that ripe bottom lip. His eyes were closed and his head tilted back so that the copper curls fell down his shoulders and back. Then he looked straight ahead as his body started to shake and his breathing become strained. I knew he was going to cum and my own body could not help but respond to the sight of his pleasure. Iphicles looked down at Ares, watched as the god's mouth moved on his cock, as his hand stroked the thick shaft and then cried out Ares' name as his orgasm started and he shot his semen down the god's throat. He grunted as he came, with each deep thrust of his hips, with each spasm of his cock in the god's mouth. The god swallowed hungrily and then licked Iphicles still-pulsing cock from base to the head, licking up the creamy white semen that welled out even as his spasms subsided. Then he took as much of Iphicles' cock in his mouth as he could and just moved so slowly on it. Iphicles gasped - his cock still too sensitive for even this light touch.
Then the god pulled off Iphicles' cock and looked up, not at Iphicles, but at me. His dark eyes burned into mine, and when he called my name, I startled. What? What did he want? I was still stunned after watching Iphicles' orgasm, my own body responding in spite of my disgust, my flesh swollen, aching for release. Iphicles seemed to come out of his own private world and looked at Ares with a frown on his lovely face. He then looked at me and I felt such confusion and embarrassment. The god was motioning for me to approach him. He should be pushing Iphicles back on the altar and making love to him the way Iphicles did that first night. He should be overcome with desire for the King, wanting to slake it in the King's body. Did he want me to watch closely? Is that what this was about?
"What... what do you want..." I said, my voice breaking, betraying my desire.
"You," he said, pointing to the altar behind Iphicles. I shook my head. I looked quickly down at the floor as if to hide from the anger I expected to see in his face at my denial. The god stood and came to me when he saw I wasn't going to comply. He took my hand and pulled me to the altar and then gripped me around the waist, pulling me closely against him.
"Alynne," he whispered in Latin, his breath hot in my ear. "The King is correct. Comply. Give me what I want." He held me there, and felt the tension in me, my refusal, my denial. He shook me. "Don't make me use force, Alynne. Would you like to see me hurt the King? Watch him cry out in pain, watch him bleed?"
I looked in his dark eyes, unwilling to believe he would hurt his lover. He smiled as if he sensed my disbelief.
"He is so beautiful, Alynne," he whispered, his lips at my ear. "Look at that skin. That face. A shame to bruise it, to cut it."
I closed my eyes. The thought that Iphicles would suffer at the hands of the god he loved was too cruel, as much as I blamed him for my plight. His motive was pure - to spare my life. Iphicles understood what power meant - it was meaningless unless it was exercised. The god's grip tightened. "Believe me, Alynne. I will."
"What do you want?" I whispered, but I already knew. I relaxed in his arms, I blanked out all thoughts of right and wrong. My mind focused on the god, his lips inches from my own, the feel of his body pressing against mine, his hard cock on my belly.
"That's better," he replied, one hand sliding down my back to my buttocks. His hand stroked them, one finger sliding down between them, straining through the fabric.
"Lie on my altar," he said, his deep voice thick. I leaned back to it and put my hands on it, and hopped up with the help of his hands. He moved between my thighs and put his arms around me, his hands tearing at the flimsy fabric of my gown so that it slipped off my shoulders and fell in pieces around my waist. My breasts were exposed and he bent down, taking one nipple in his mouth, the other between his finger and thumb. Should I try to resist the pleasure? Conjure up the image of him standing over my dead husband? Save myself some small shred of dignity as I turned my body over to him?
I was determined to try.
He would still want some response from me - some indication that he was succeeding in arousing me, of evoking my lust. I pictured him with that sword between my Vercingetorix's ribs - it choked off my emotions, my desire. I then felt hatred turn me to stone, yet, I found my voice and started to feign desire as he sucked my nipples one after the other. He seemed pleased at my response. This gave me courage and I added some fast breathing when the rest of my clothing disappeared and he pushed me back, his mouth burrowing into the tender flesh between my thighs.
I thought to how I usually responded to this part of lovemaking - tried to see myself as an object, study my own reaction so I could replicate it for the god. Fool him. Prevent him from requiring authentic desire and pleasure. I moved my hips under his mouth, pressing upward, so that I was stroking myself against his tongue. "Oh, gods," I cried, caressing my own breasts while I moved myself against him. Part of me watched my own performance, judging it, trying to monitor it's ability to convince, when it became false.
He pulled away from me, and I gasped as if felt his hot mouth retreat. I looked up, stunned, and struggled up on my elbows. He stood in front of my spread thighs, his mouth and chin wet with my fluids and his own saliva and stroked his cock.
"Have it your way, then," he said angrily, and shoved his cock inside me, his hands hooking under my thighs and pulling me against him with each thrust. Again, there was the incredible searing pain and I screamed. I would have kicked him but he did something to stop the pain and I lay back and gasped for breath.
The god could sense my artifice, the lack of real pleasure on my part. Luckily, he decided he didn't care after all so I lay back and closed my eyes. I tried not to think of what was happening to me. Each thrust of the god's hips pounded me and he pulled me back with his arms, moving me, my whole body back and forth on his cock. When I heard the god's rapid breathing, felt his thrusts become more insistent, shorter and faster, I felt so used, so objectified, so empty. This act had never been this way to me before. I had only ever felt love and desire with the men who made love to me. Now here I was, my body used as an empty receptacle for the god's hard cock - nothing more. I felt hot tears fill my eyes.
I blinked my eyes open and found myself staring into those of the King. He was standing perhaps a step away from the side of the altar, still naked, his face flushed from his own orgasm. Such a look of compassion on that face! I know he would rather see desire on my own, pleasure, not humiliation, and no tears. Ares did not care. As long as he had his pleasure, the rest of us could be damned to Tartarus.
How did he get mixed up with this god? How did he get caught in his trap? He was so beautiful, I could understand the god's desire for him, but why did Iphicles allow this relationship to continue? Did he even have a choice, or had Ares taken him with as little concern for his emotions as he showed for me? Did he finally comply because he was worn down, because his desire got the better of him? Finally, I could not stand the look on his face any longer - I wanted him to intervene - to strike the god, to make him stop. I was angry at him for being so helpless, for being unable to protect me.
For sparing my life.
Ares yelled out as his orgasm began, and he groaned through gritted teeth as he shuddered, his cock spasmed inside of me, emptying him of his seed. I closed my eyes - glad this ordeal was over. He leaned over me, and rested his head on my breasts. His hands took my own in a curiously affectionate manner. "The next time I fuck you," he gasped in Latin, still catching his breath, "I won't let you off so easily."
Iphicles turned away in disgust, I thought. I watched as he pulled his clothes on and then went to the window and opened the shutters, letting the cool air flow in, the breeze blowing his curls softly around his face. He stared off into the distance and I longed to know what he was thinking then - was he wondering how he would ever get himself out from under the god's spell? How he would ever forget the power of the passion the god was able to evoke in him? Did Iphicles actually love this beast? I could not find anything in him to love - I couldn't imagine anyone could love one such as him.
The god left me on the altar, and I lay there mute, my flesh torn, my thighs felt bruised from the pounding of his body against them. Would I always bleed each time he fucked me? I looked over at Iphicles - the god had dressed once again in his suit of black leather and was standing close behind the King - one hand rested on his shoulder affectionately. He was whispering in the King's ear.
Tacitus came to me and helped me up. He at least showed some concern for me. I had no clothing, so I wrapped the torn gown around me as best I could. Tacitus put a comforting arm around me as my teeth chattered, and that small bit of warmth, that tiny show of empathy started the tears flowing once again and I covered my face and gave in to them, sobbing, horrified at what was happening , what had happened to me. It had all seemed so unreal, as if a dream, a bad dream from which I would soon awaken. But I knew the horror had gone on for far too long for this to be a dream.
Iphicles turned to look at me then and saw me weeping even as I hid my face in Tacitus' shoulder. He spoke to Ares and I was clothed in a more fitting gown, worn by women in Greece, of rich fabric and color. Ares came to me and pulled me off the altar, and waited as I wiped my tears and got hold over my emotions. He held my arm out and examined me closely as if to judge his choice of clothing.
"Alynne," he said in Greek, his voice soft. Tacitus had to translate for me - I caught some of what he said, but not all. "The god says that you now look like a true Greek noblewoman. He says that this gown calls attention to your eyes and hair. He asks how anyone could resist you."
Then he pushed me to Iphicles with enough force that we collided together, and the King reached out to catch me as I tripped against him. When his strong arms went around me, when I felt his warmth, even as briefly as I did, I wanted more. Our eyes met for a moment as I pulled away, and straightened my gown. There was no amusement in his eyes, there was no mocking as there was in the god's as he watched us together. Only sadness and compassion.
Ares spoke to us, Iphicles and I, as we stood beside each other, looking at the god, waiting for his next command. He spoke in Greek and Tacitus translated, but he hesitated before he started as if trying to find softer more acceptable words. Iphicles heaved a great sigh at Ares' words and turned away.
"Now teach her to speak Greek so she can tell me how much she loves it when I fuck her."
When at Ares' temple, I felt the slave that I was - I had a small room, and I had this sense of waiting always for his call, waiting on his pleasure. Here, at the King's estate, I was treated as the daughter of a King. Iphicles saw to it that I had an elegant room with a huge canopied bed, chairs and a table, a large hearth, a small room for my toilette, and a patio off some double doors. His seamstress came and made me several gowns and his cook asked me for my likes and dislikes in terms of food. My quarters were very comfortable and I could sit on the patio at night and look at the stars, feel the cool night breeze on my face.
As for the King, he treated me with respect. It was such a change from Ares' own treatment of me - I felt that while the god may have no respect for me as the daughter of a King, Iphicles did. I was thankful even as I hid my feelings - my anger at him, irrational anger, remained. He could have treated me much differently, considering the way I tried to ignore him, to pretend that he wasn't there, pretend he wasn't being so nice to me.
"The best way to learn," Iphicles said to me as we sat having our breakfast on the patio of his personal rooms, "is to immerse yourself. Sit and listen, and try to speak. You might as well come with me, stay with me through my day. It will give you a chance to listen and speak."
Tacitus translated this to me, his words rapid, following the King's own as he spoke. "From here on in, I'm asking Tacitus to only translate what I say when I indicate he should. It's Greek from now on."
I walked with him through his day, listening as he spoke to his advisors, taking my meals with him, talking with he and Tacitus about politics in Rome and Athens.
One morning, about a week after I arrived in Corinth, I watched the King reading over some official document as he sat eating his fruit. He was peeling a ripe mango, slicing it with a small knife so he could get at the sweet flesh. He was absorbed in the document and didn't notice me watching him. He was a King, after all, he had important matters that required his attention - I was used to this absorption with my father. I enjoyed sitting there across from him, eating my own breakfast, watching those lips suck the juice from his fingers, wiping his hands absently on a napkin before turning a page of the document he was studying.
He grunted at something he read and a small smile curved his lips. He shook his head and spoke in Greek, his eyes crinkled at the corners. Then he looked up at me, realizing from the confused look on my face that I hadn't understood. He pointed to Tacitus, who cleared his throat and translated.
"He says it took two pages of drivel for the fool to get to the point." I nodded and laughed. I didn't understand the words for drivel and fool, and the sentence lost all meaning without them.
"My father also... had ...problems with ...advisors." I said hesitantly, trying to convey to him that I understood his frustration.
"Did you know much about your father's work as King?"
I nodded. My father had trained me as his successor. I would have to marry well, so that the people could know I was backed by a strong husband. That was no problem - it was lucky that I showed such an interest in kissing Vercingetorix that day. He was our people's most trusted warlord.
"I was only child - my brother died as infant. I was to be regent next."
"So that means you are the Queen."
I shook my head. "I am slave to Ares." I wanted to rub it in, rub that beautiful face in the reality of my fall from grace. "I am toy for his sex."
He shook his head and put the knife and mango down on the plate. The white handkerchief came out and he wiped those full lips and looked at me almost hesitantly.
"Alynne," he said quietly, "I know you must hate me. Try to understand." He looked away and took a breath before continuing. "I recognized you on the battlefield. I knew you were the Princess, Vercingetorix's wife. I..." He sighed. "I thought - I didn't want to be the one to kill the last member of your family. I knew both the King and Vercingetorix were dead. Your children as well. You, Alynne, were all that remained."
I looked away, feeling the tears stinging my eyes at the mention of my dead family, especially my children.
"Caesar is wrong - his policy to kill all members of the royal family." He looked at me and saw me cover my mouth with a hand, saw my attempt to stifle my tears. How could he believe I was the leader of my people when I wept so easily! He reached out and took my hand in his - such a warm, caring gesture. I pulled my hand out of his as if I hated the feel of his skin on my own. He took another deep breath, leaned back in his chair, and looked out the window.
"It is unwise to leave a country without a legitimate leader. Some member of the royal family could, in the future, become a sympathetic supporter of Rome. But this emperor - he has no mercy..." I wiped my eyes, and tried to get control over my emotions as he courteously looked away. What he said was true. Caesar was wrong to do this - to kill everyone associated with the family.
"This act of Caesar - it is wrong... it..."
I turned to Tacitus, and asked him how to say "destroyed a people's spirit"
He answered and I continued. "It destroys a people - their spirit, to lose of their King and his family. They do not forget soon, my people." My voice was weak, but I wanted to continue. I had not spoken of my own feelings to anyone since that day - not even to Tacitus. It was a relief - to have someone else recognize the horror of what had been done.
"Caesar wants a new start, with own men until more ..." I turned to Tacitus again. "Sympathetic?"
I nodded, "sympathetic leader in power."
Iphicles looked at me and shook his head. "You speak very well, Alynne. You barely need Tacitus to translate."
I nodded, then looked in his eyes. They were so warm, a rich golden brown - soft, kind - as if betraying the heart inside the man. Their affect on me was so at odds with the image I had of him as he sat over me that day on the battlefield - rage filling his face, his eyes so dark and threatening as he held his knife to my throat. Now he seemed so good, so caring. There, in the midst of the fray, he seemed so full of hate and violence. War did that to people. I imagine even my eyes became dead as I killed my enemy. Now I felt so weak.
"I do not want Tacitus to leave me alone with the god," I confessed, looking down at my hands. "I fear him. He wants to hurt me. Destroy me. I delay."
"He doesn't want to destroy you. He only wants your desire. He wants your lust. This..." he looked away from me, as if it hurt him to admit it. "This makes him feel he has a part of you, a very ... deep part of you to which others don't have access." He sipped at some fresh juice. "It's like - I, Ares, god of war, have the heart of this woman or man. I have control over their body, their desire. It fills his ... loneliness."
"Loneliness?" I said, not understanding. Tacitus translated for me. I shook my head. Did a god feel lonely?
"A god lonely?"
Iphicles nodded and looked back at me. "A god is immortal - they do not die. They live on while we die. They watch as we die, one by one. Ares..." He took another sip as if his mouth was dry. "Ares tries to steal something from us - something that exists deep within us. This becomes the source of his memories, experiences of us to keep when we are gone, I think." He leaned forward, warming to his subject. I could tell he had thought about this a great deal. He seemed so ... reflective, somber.
"He can't have ordinary memories - not ones like you or I could have. Sitting here with you now - this could become a nice memory for me of our relationship. This..." he said, waving his hand around the room, pointing to me, to the food, "this is not enough for Ares. He has known so many centuries of death and destruction, only the most powerful experiences can have an impact. Sex, pleasure, desire, lust. These are strong enough to remember over all the blood, fear, hate and anger." I turned to Tacitus - there were too many words for me to comprehend the full meaning. I listened as he translated Iphicles' words. I nodded and felt a strange response. It made me see Ares differently.
"Your words," I whispered. "They are so sad."
He nodded. "Yes, it's sad. I feel sad for him. I give him what he wants. It's hard, sometimes - to submit. I still fight, even though I've decided to comply." He sighed and a smile came over his lips. A sad smile.
"He's chosen me," he began, folding the napkin absently. "He wants my heart, my desire, my lust. I give it to him. I wish he could be more... considerate of my own needs." He paused for a moment. "His seem so much more... compelling."
I turned to Tacitus. He was caught up in Iphicles' words and jumped a bit when I asked him what Iphicles meant by the last word.
"Compelling - important, immediate..."
I nodded. "He makes them more important."
"Yes, but he must go on."
"Yes, but you must die."
He leaned back in his chair and looked away, a smile on his lips. "An impasse. Perhaps we're both right."
I turned to Tacitus - I didn't need to ask - he knew what I needed translated. "Impasse - place where no movement is possible..." I nodded with understanding.
"He wants you, Alynne. He won't give up until he has you."
"He wants your jealousy."
"That too. That will give him even more of me." He reached over once again, and took my hand in his. I did not pull away this time. His heart seemed so big, this King sitting beside me. I knew he loved Ares. And then I knew that Ares loved the King, in his own way. Perhaps not the way I might love him, but it was love all the same.
"He loves you," I observed. He smiled at my words. "I sometimes wonder, Alynne, if he really does, but I think you're right. As much as he is able."
"Is it enough?"
"It's all I have."
I shook my head. He deserved more, this beautiful King.
"Not enough for me," I whispered. "My Vercingetorix - we spent all moments together, we made love each day when we could, some days two. We look for each other just to sit, hold hands, lie together, to feel each other's bodies so close." I put my arms around myself, remembering his warmth, his great arms as they embraced me, as his hands stroked me when we lay together. I tried to bite back my tears. "You do not have this with Ares. It is not enough for me." He looked at me, his face so wounded at the truth of my words. I should have stopped, should have been kinder, but he had chosen to save me - he could listen to what he and his Caesar took away from me.
"Where is your wife? Your son to become next king? Ares can not give this."
"My wife is dead," he said, his voice breaking. "I have no heirs. I don't know if I will ever have these things..." he stood up and put the napkin down. He turned to me, but then stopped what he was going to say.
"I..." he said, his voice quiet now. "I have some things to do. I'll talk to you later."
He turned and walked quickly out of the room, leaving Tacitus and I alone.
"I said too much."
Tacitus nodded. "Perhaps, yes. You told the truth, Alynne."
I didn't see him the rest of that day or night, and knew I had hurt him with my careless words. He was avoiding me. The next evening I went to my patio alone - Tacitus had retired seeing that the King had not called for us. I stood and looked at the stars - they were so bright on this clear moon-less night. I wondered what the gods, one in particular, had in mind for me. Why had my gods deserted me so heartlessly? Were they so weak in the face of these Roman and Greek gods?
I heard a movement behind me and turned around, expecting to see Tacitus, but it was the King. He came and stood next to me, his eyes turned up to the stars as well.
"I think you had better leave, go back to the temple. Your Greek is fine - I can teach you no more - you can speak well enough for even Ares' impatient nature."
"No!" I cried, dreading the prospect of returning to the temple, or Tacitus leaving me, going to his own freedom while I faced unknown sexual depravity with the god. I took hold of his arm and turned him to me. "Please, Iphicles. Do not send me back. I am afraid of him! I do not want to be shamed."
He said nothing, as if unmoved by my plea. I knew my words had hurt him. I apologized.
"Iphicles..." I began, my voice soft, filled with emotion. "I should not have spoke so many hurtful things to you. I ... I do not understand why I try to hurt you. You have been only good to me, kind."
He looked at me and then turned back, his eyes on the stars once again.
"Iphicles!" I continued, my voice breaking as tears welled up in my eyes. "Don't send me there! Let me stay here with you. Let me stay with a human, not be under power of the god. I will not say hurtful things again to you - you who have been only kind to me." I took his hand in mine and squeezed it, wanting him to know that I realized how good and considerate he had been. He squeezed back, and at that show of compassion I could not hold back the tears and covered my eyes with the other hand as I wept.
"Oh, Alynne," he whispered, taking me in his large arms, and pulling me close to him. I let myself go limp in his arms, they felt so good around me, so comforting, so warm. Yet, his body against my own only reminded me of my Vercingetorix, his own body, our lovemaking. The fact that I would never feel him again inside of me.
I can't explain what happened next, but perhaps it was the memory of his body, his arousal, his pleasure when he and Ares had made love to each other in front of me. My body responded to the feel of him next to me and I could not help notice his musk, feel the strength of his muscles under his tunic. His skin felt so smooth as my hands reached up and stroked those strong biceps. I was quite lost in the feeling of his body and my mouth sought his out. He did not push me away.
"Alynne," he whispered, his own hands exploring my body hungrily. "Are you sure you want this?"
"Yes," I whispered back, afraid to hear my own voice admit my desire for him. He picked me up and carried me to my bed and lay me down, his great body crushing me beneath him. How I loved to feel him on top of me like that! It made me feel so safe, so desired. We had no powers to make clothing disappear and had to struggle, tugging at each other's ties and pulling off garments one by one, impatient to touch that which we had only seen and admired. I wanted to touch his skin so badly, to feel those muscles beneath my hand, to run my fingers through his black body hair, to bury my face in his groin and breathe in his scent, taste him. I pushed him off me with impatience, and my body shaking with desire, I lay on top of him, my mouth moving down his chest to his nipples, licking each one, nipping at them until they were hard. He gasped as I sucked at them and I looked up, pleased to see his face flushed with desire.
What a flurry of conflicting emotions went through me as I looked at his naked body beneath me! Here I was, straddling him, my thighs on either side of his own, his cock swollen and erect beneath me, my hands on his belly, stroking his lean hips. I wanted him so much, this enemy, this strong warrior who had crushed me beneath him, knife to my throat and then spared my life on the battlefield. My tutor, the gentle caring King, himself a helpless pawn in a game in which the god made his own existence more tolerable.
My mouth moved lower and I licked the fluid that spilled out onto his skin, tasting his saltiness, his indescribable maleness that aroused me so much. I licked his balls, took each one softly into my mouth, then heard his moan of pleasure as my tongue stroked the bulging head of his cock, tasting the fluid that dripped off, my mouth taking him inside of me. He moved, propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch me sucking him, as my Vercingetorix liked to do. He was very vocal, this lover. He spoke to me in a soft voice filled with desire, telling me how good it felt, how much he wanted me, had wanted me since that day on the battlefield.
I could have sucked him and stroked him until he came in my mouth, I was so aroused from his taste and the feel of his hardness in my hand, but I was too greedy to feel his cock inside of me, his fingers stroking my flesh, bringing me to ecstasy as his thrusting inside me brought him his own. I pulled off him and heard his sigh of regret - I knew how he would have liked me to linger there, how he would love to feel my soft mouth around his cock as he came, watch me swallow him, his semen. I would another time - I was already planning such another time with my tutor. I planned for us to pleasure each other this way, then rest, eat, talk, and when he recovered, for us to make love. But now, I was so aroused, I wanted only to feel him inside of me, to make me cum with his hard cock thrusting in and out until I screamed in pleasure.
He pushed me on my back and lay on top of me once again, rubbing his hardness against my belly and when I spread my legs for him, against my flesh. His mouth moved on my body now as I had on his, and I too gasped as his mouth found my nipples, sucking each one to hardness, his teeth closing around them just enough to arouse me even more.
I too gave voice to the feelings of pleasure he evoked. I wanted him to know how much pleasure he was giving me, how much I wanted him.
"I try so hard not to want you," I whispered, as his mouth moved lower, as his hands parted my willing thighs. "I try to pretend, but you are so beautiful, so much desire for you is in me. I feel so bad for my Vercingetorix, that I should want you even now."
He stopped, and lay his head on my belly. I waited, my fingers combing through his hair. When he did nothing, when he said nothing, I wondered why he had stopped. Had I said something wrong? He moved up the bed, so that his face was level with mine and shook his head over me, his face looked so pained.
"I'm so sorry, Alynne. I'm so sorry... for everything, for what I did, for what has happened."
"No!" I insisted, "don't be sorry. I only blame you because I need someone who will take it. You gave me my life." I cradled his face in my hands and smiled at him, wanting him to forget all my words blaming him for not killing me that day. He was the only one to show me kindness, to show me humanity. How could I pretend I hated him?"
He shook his head again, as if he couldn't accept my words. "Alynne, I ..." Then he looked at me, in my eyes. "Just make love with me, Iphicles, please!" I whispered, pulling him down to my mouth. Then he kissed me, overtaken once again by desire.
His mouth felt so good on my flesh, his tongue stroking my hard clit. Now I was not acting as I had with the god, and my body took over, my hips straining against him, moving myself against his tongue until I could not stand it any longer and cried out with pleasure as my orgasm began. I wanted him inside of me immediately, to start thrusting in me before the feelings could subside and I pulled him up to me, my hand grasping his cock and trying frantically to pull him inside.
"Please!" I cried out, "Now!"
When he entered me, as his hardness filled me up completely, my breath left my body and I knew it would not take many more strokes before I could cum again. Before he even had established an effective pace for his own pleasure, my back arched as another orgasm surged through me and I cried out beneath him, my mouth crushed against his. Hearing my cries of pleasure, feeling my body contracting against his cock aroused him further and soon I heard his own breath shorten and his thrusts grow more rapid. Then he groaned, and sucked in his breath as his orgasm began, and those delicious grunts of pleasure came from those full lips. He collapsed against me, his mouth finding my own and we kissed deeply, drained from the intensity of our desire for each other and the pleasure each received.
Then I felt a strange heat beside us, and heard a low chuckle - it was the god. He lay on his side on the bed and stroked Iphicles back as he watched us.
"My, my. What a pleasant little scene I've happened onto!"
I looked up into Iphicles' face. His eyes were closed at the sound of the god's voice. Then he must have felt my panicked eyes on him and he looked at me and shook his head as if to warn me not to say anything.
"I guess she doesn't need any more lessons. She seems to be able to speak Greek well enough for you to understand her moans of approval. I guess I'll have to take her back now. She's ready for me."
I closed my eyes, shocked that the god had chosen this time to come looking for me. Would he punish Iphicles for this? I remembered his threat before.
"Please, lord," I whispered, as he pulled me out from under the King. "Do not blame Iphicles for this. It was I who kissed him..."
"I'll bet it was!" he laughed. "Good, I like to know that about you. You like to initiate sex. Now you can turn some of that desire in my direction, Alynne." I remembered what Iphicles said about this god's loneliness, his need for our desire to help him bear his immortality. I wondered if I too would sense this need from him.
"I have some time off between wars, Alynne. It's time we got to know each other a little better."
I looked back at Iphicles as the god took me in his arms and carried me off the bed. He lay with his hands covering his face, as if he could not bear to watch the god carry me off as if I was some prize, some spoil of war.
But that's what I was.
End of Part 4
In a flash, we were back at the god's temple - I was still naked and in his strong arms. The rapid change in location made me dizzy and I covered my eyes as the room spun. He threw me down on a soft couch against the wall of a large bedroom and I reached back to stop my fall, propping myself on my elbows. He stood beside the couch and considered me, my naked form, lying there helpless, at his mercy. It was a position I know he relished. There was no smile on his face now - no amusement. I could not read him - he looked a combination of anger and lust. His eyes were so dark - they looked filled with rage and I wondered if he was going to kill me for sleeping with the King.
He paced around the room. His large muscles strained against his black leather as he walked - he was like a caged lion. The he came to the couch and plopped down beside me. I tried to cover myself, but he smiled at me. "No need, Alynne. I've seen you naked before. Relax."
He threw one arm across the back of the couch and stroked his beard with his other hand. "So, you've progressed amazingly fast under the King's ... tutelage," he said in that deep voice. He adjusted himself on the couch, stretching one leg up, laying it beside me. I tucked my knees up under my chin so he had enough room for his massive form.
"I'm pleased with your progress, Alynne. I'll give Tacitus his freedom tomorrow. That'll make him happy after being your husband's servant for so long." I swallowed hard. Now I would be alone with the god. I looked away, dreading what I knew would happen to me alone under his power.
"So, you and I, we'll have to spend more time together now, getting to know each other. I expect we're going to have a long association, Alynne." He stretched the other leg up and lay back against the curved arm of the couch. His hands went behind his head and he closed his eyes.
"This is a pleasant little scene, isn't it, Alynne? The kind a married couple might have. I need some practice at this - I thought you might let me practice on you."
"You're getting... married?" I asked, my voice incredulous.
"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. It's not the same as a marriage you might have, but I'll definitely be wedded. It's a novelty, really. The idea of having a wife. Someone always around, all that ready sex and affection, the pitter patter of little feet." He stretched out further and moved his hips so that he was squeezing me back against the other arm of the couch. I barely had enough room.
"This isn't working very well, is it. Here," he grabbed my arm and pulled me up. "Sit here instead." He placed me down so that I sat on the side of the couch facing him, but he was positioned so that I had no choice but to lean forward, my arms resting against his broad chest. "That's better." He moved his hips once again as if trying to get settled in. I sighed in frustration. "Can you at least dress me in something. I'm cold."
"No, I think I prefer you naked. If you're cold, just move a little closer. Isn't that what married couples do? Seek each other out and lie together, feel their bodies against each other?" What - had he listened to my conversations with Iphicles?
"So, Alynne, what would a married couple talk about now, as they sat together on the couch after a long day. Do I tell you all about my problems with my warlords, the insubordination, the tactics against the enemy? Do you tell me all about the children, what cute things they did, the gown you ordered, the problems with the servants?"
"I don't know about that. I fought alongside my husband. I spent time each day with my father learning about statecraft. My children..." I stopped and looked away. My throat closed and the tears welled up at the thought of them. "My children were cared for by a servant while I was occupied." He watched me without saying anything. Could he not see that I was upset? Was he unable to comprehend such emotions? I tried to avoid looking at him, but his silence drew my eyes to him. His face was unreadable. No sympathy, no anger - nothing.
"Well," he said finally, "I imagine we'd talk about unimportant things. Small things. Trivia." He moved down again on the couch, his hands going back behind his head. I was forced to lean even farther over him, my hands resting on his chest, my breasts pressed against him.
"I've never talked about such things. Let's give it a try, shall we?"
"Ares..." I protested, feeling foolish playing this game.
"Oh, that's OK. I'll start. Let's see." He looked around the room as if searching for something mundane to talk about.
"The mattress on the bed needs to be flipped. There's a large dent where we sleep together." He waited for me to respond. "Ares..." I protested. "What?' he replied. "Didn't you and Vercingetorix discuss such things?"
"This is silly. Whomever you marry will not talk to you about such things."
"No, you're right, Alynne. We'll be too busy fucking to talk about these matters." Then his clothing vanished and I felt his bare skin against my own. Gods, his skin was so hot, almost shimmering with energy. I could barely draw a breath as he pulled me on top of him and his massive cock pulsed against my groin.
"I prefer this to meaningless discussion any day, Alynne. Don't you?" He looked at me for several long moments, and I finally had to close my eyes. He spoke, his voice deep and soft. It seemed to vibrate inside me, right down to my groin.
"So, you like the King, do you, Alynne? Enough to fuck him? I thought you hated him."
"Ares, I..." I began, but felt so foolish trying to explain to him what happened between Iphicles and I. His hand stroked down my back to my buttocks. "I think we'd be much more comfortable on the bed." The next thing I knew, I was lying on the huge canopied bed. Ares was on top of me now, his weight crushed me beneath him.
"So tell me, what did you two do first - what foreplay did you enjoy? Did he lick you, did you suck him?" His mouth moved down my body, his tongue trailing from my collar bones to my breasts. "Tell me - it gets me so hot - the thought of you two together." His lips pulled at my nipples, one after the other. "Did you like it when he licked you, Alynne? He has an expert tongue, Iphicles. Did he make you cum when he sucked your clit?" His mouth moved down my belly to my pubic arch. He looked up at me, his eyes were still dark.
"Imagine my surprise when I came to check on your performance only to find you performing with my own lover!" I lay back and closed my eyes. He would not kill me - that would be too kind. He would humiliate me instead. Humiliate me by making me cum so soon after I'd fucked the King. His mouth moved to my flesh, and he started stroking my clit with his tongue. "I'm so hot from watching the two of you, from the thought of you fucking each other I just have to have some myself."
"Ares. It's no use," I whispered as his lips closed around my hard clit and he sucked at it slowly, trying to ignite desire in me. "I can't respond so soon after..."
"Nonsense," he replied. "You had only, what - two orgasms? That's nothing."
"I've never had more - I'm lucky to have even two at one time," I replied. I did not like the feelings he was evoking in me. I did not want to feel anything from this beast. He plunged his tongue deep inside me. He licked me, licked the fluid that still leaked out of me from Iphicles, from my own lust.
"Fuck," he groaned, his tongue working even harder now. "I can taste you both. You taste so good." He took me, all of my swollen flesh in his mouth, his tongue moving in slow circles as he sucked at me. He moved up from between my thighs and kissed me roughly, his lips forcing mine apart, his tongue thrusting in me, finding my own tongue, sucking it. He tasted salty, earthy.
"Can you taste yourself?" he whispered as he pulled away from my mouth. "Your own taste is mixed with his. Can you tell the difference?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I can." He rose up and thrust his dripping cock close to my mouth.
"Lick me," he demanded. I knew he was aroused at the thought that he had both Iphicles' and my own fluids on his tongue - that now I did as well. He wanted me to taste us all. I licked him. The drop of precum slipped onto my extended tongue and I let it sit there for him to see before I drew my tongue inside to taste him fully. He groaned as he watched me do this then quickly kissed me again, his mouth sucking my tongue. I knew he wanted to taste us all at once as well. He closed his eyes.
"You're going to suck my cock, Alynne, but right now, I want you to cum. I can't believe you've never had more than two orgasms in one... encounter." We tried before, Vercingetorix and I, but had failed. Vercingetorix had been intent on making me cum again, even after he was spent, but I always felt so guilty wanting more pleasure when Vercingetorix was unable to respond himself. I could not relax as he licked me, thinking that he was no longer aroused and wouldn't enjoy what he was doing. Two was enough for me. I knew there were women who barely had even one with their lovers.
"I am unable to ... become aroused again. It's impossible." I wanted him to believe that so he would just take his own pleasure and forget about me, but the taste of his fluid was arousing me so much. I didn't want to have an orgasm with Ares - not now. Not so soon after I had made love with Iphicles.
"You've never been with a god. I have more ... stamina." "Stamina?" I gasped as his mouth moved back to my breasts. I was unsure of what this word meant. "Capacity, ability. I can fuck you over and over again, Alynne. I don't need to rest." He sucked at me, his mouth taking in as much of my breast as he could, his tongue circling the nipple.
"You've never had a lover like me, my Queen." Then he ran his tongue all over my breast, pulling at the nipple with his teeth, biting down just a little too hard so that I cried out in pain. His mouth was so quick to softness again, sucking the damaged nipple, soothing the pain, sending small jolts of desire to my groin. He took one of my hands and closed it around his massive cock. "Feel that?" he whispered, "No one can compare, Alynne." He smiled at me as he pulled my hand along his length.
"Only a fool measures their lover's ... " I couldn't think of the word for performance. "Skill ...by the length of his cock, Ares." He smiled at me. "Yes, you're right. Skill in love is measured by more than size," he said as he moved up and spread my thighs with his knee. He rubbed his cock against my flesh. I could not help but gasp at the pleasure. "It is also measured by your ability to sense and satisfy your lover's needs and desires. Luckily I have both."
I panicked, hating the arousal that was building in me. "Please, Ares. Just take your pleasure. I'm unable to respond again. You expect too much." I tried to stop the motions my hips were making but I could not.
"You don't know your own capacity, Alynne. At the most, a mortal man, especially one of Iphicles' age, is capable of one orgasm, maybe two at one time without recovering and that is only under my expert touch. A mortal woman is different. I could get a dozen out of you if I chose." I shook my head, not wanting to hear this, not wanting him to try. "Please, let me be." I cried, even as I moved against him. "I don't want a dozen. I don't want one."
"You'll get as many as I want. A dozen sounds good to me." He moved back between my thighs, and began licking me again. His tongue was hot and insistent against me. I fought so hard - I truly fought so hard, but the pleasure came against my will.
"Just let yourself go, Alynne. I'm not giving in to you. The more you fight, the more determined I'll be." I thought about Iphicles - what he'd said about this god and his need for our desire. The god wanted to make me cum more than I ever had before - I knew that now. This would be his memory of me - he would remember that he had made me cum again and again. That no one else had succeeded, that I would never have another lover who could fuck me as often and make me cum so many times in one encounter.
I gave in.
He lifted up from me, as if sensing my compliance and crushed his body against me, kissing me with such force that I felt invaded.
"Have you ever played with toys, Alynne?" He whispered, his voice thick. He held out his hand. With his powers, he conjured a carved wooden phallus, large and thick. He smiled when he saw the shock on my face.
"You must have wondered, Alynne, how good it would feel to be filled with a cock while you were licked, while your clit was being sucked." He smiled at me, and rubbed the head of the phallus against my lips.
"Have you ever used one of these before, you and your Vercingetorix? If you haven't you don't know what you're missing. My own cock would be better inside of you, but the shame of it is that I can't lick you and fuck you at the same time. This one will have to do. " He slid down between my thighs and I moved up onto my elbows and watched as he took the phallus into his mouth to lubricate it. It was so large - almost as large as him, and it's size stretched his lips. Then he rubbed my clit with the wooden head. I expected it to be cold, but he must have warmed it. It was almost big enough to hurt me as he pushed it inside of me. I panted as I felt the thick head enter me, stopping just inside. "Stop," I whispered, "It's too much."
"You'll have to get used to a cock this big and more, Alynne." He took it out - the head was now wet with my fluid. "Recognize it? You sucked it sweetly enough." I cried out as he pushed it inside of me - almost all of it in one motion. The pleasure when his mouth moved back to my swollen flesh, now stretched thin by the phallus' size was almost overwhelming. His tongue moved slowly on my hard clit - I have to admit that I had never felt such incredible pleasure before. He was right - I had wondered what it would feel like to be licked while I was being fucked, and had fantasized about making love with two men at once just so I could experience this. I felt wanton, overcome with lust, and when he began moving the phallus inside of me, as his tongue still moved on me, then sucked at my clit, I screamed as I felt the orgasm begin. It felt so good to be filled with that hard cock, Iphicles' cock, while I came - with Ares' soft wet tongue, his hot lips pulling at my flesh.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," I wept as my muscles spasmed around the phallus and my body shook. The sensation was too much to bear, and I felt as if I would faint, as if the blood was all rushing from my head. He pulled the phallus out of me, then replaced it with his own huge cock, and pounded into me.
"Oh, fuck, you feel so good, Alynne," he said in a soft voice as he thrust in me. "Your flesh is so soft, your cunt so tight, I'm going to make you cum over and over again until you beg me to stop."
"No more," I whispered, my flesh swollen and sore. "Please, no more."
The sweat dripped down the nape of my neck and down my back and belly. I was sitting on him, sitting on his lap, my legs straddling his thighs, my arms resting on his shoulders. My thighs were shaking. I had just fucked him until I came, and then had to try to keep going until he came as well, and it was almost too much for my legs. His cock was still hard inside me. He was leaning back on his arms, his eyes closed and his hair and skin soaked with sweat. He opened his eyes and looked at me.
"That's only five. I said a dozen."
"But seven for me. You'll kill me," I cried. I couldn't bear the thought of another orgasm - I was so exhausted. Then I started to laugh. I couldn't help it.
"What?" he grunted as he reached down with one hand and stroked my clit with his thumb.
"A sword, yes. I expected that. A knife, perhaps." I paused as I felt the pleasure from his touch. I swallowed hard before I could continue. "Crushed by a horse - possible. Death by orgasm? Never!" I laughed and then cried, both at the same time - horrified at the fact that I could cum seven times in a row. It was almost grotesque. I felt like an animal. He laughed as well, softly at first and then harder. We laughed together for a moment, but then, when his motions on my swelling clit began to arouse me once again, I stopped laughing, and only my tears remained. He must have sensed my arousal beneath him, felt my clit grow hard once again. He pushed me onto my back and pulled me to the end of the bed, keeping his cock inside me all the while.
"Aren't you tired?" I asked, wiping the tears away, knowing the answer already. "I'm fine," he replied. "What's with the tears? You're enjoying this." I shook my head. He couldn't possibly understand. He pulled his cock out and rubbed it against my clit - he was slick with all the semen and my own fluids. It felt so good - his cock against me.
"First a bath,' he said. He grinned then, when he saw my disappointment and pulled me off the bed, waving to the copper tub filled with steaming water. I moaned as I stood up - I was stiff and sore from our fucking. "Oh, yeah," he said, placing his hand between my legs, pulling me close to him. He kissed me then as he healed me and looked at me with a cocky smile on his face. "Now you're ready for more." I closed my eyes as he pulled me to the tub. We climbed in and he sat behind me, and poured water over me, soaking me.
"So, tell me, Alynne. Did you and your husband take baths together? Did he wash your hair?" I nodded, but I'm sure he knew the answer already. Ares washed my hair - that is not an easy task as it is so thick and wavy. This god is persistent, I thought to myself as he scrubbed away. He then rinsed my hair and made me stand up so he could wash me. I remembered back to that first humiliating day when his priestess washed me, then when he took over, his hands arousing me so much. He was doing it again, this insatiable god. He was stroking my breasts, running his hands down my back to my buttocks, sliding his hand between my thighs.
"A husband gets to know every inch of his wife's body, doesn't he?"
"Yes," I whispered as his fingers stroked me. He was going to try to make me cum again, I could tell by the determined look on his face as he turned me around and sat down in front of me in the tub, his face flushed, his eyes half-closed as he stroked me. My response to his touch shocked me - I could still respond even after everything.
"Ares," I whispered, "Can't we rest..."
"I'm ready again, Alynne. So are you." He poured a vessel of water over me, rinsing the soap from my body and then turned me around, pushing me forward so that I bent over, my arms resting on the side of the tub, my back to him. He began licking me from behind, his fingers caressing me, and I gasped as he shoved the phallus into my cunt while a finger slid into my anus. "Oh, gods,' I cried out. In this position, I felt so exposed to him, and with the phallus inside me, and his finger in my anus, I felt dizzy with pleasure. "What are you doing to me..." I whispered.
"I'm going to make you cum twice, two orgasms, one right after the other," he said. "Then we'll rest." He licked me, his tongue circling my clit, stroking the flesh around the phallus, licking my anus as he slipped another finger inside me, then another. So much sensation - it was heaven. I had given up all pretense by now. I moaned as he moved the phallus in me, as his tongue stroked my clit. "Yes, you love it, Alynne," he whispered.
"It's too much," I cried. He stopped the movement of the phallus and was still. I gasped in shock as the feelings subsided - I was so near to another orgasm. "No..." I cried, "no. Don't stop, please." I pushed back against him.
"I thought you said it was too much, Alynne," he replied, and I could hear the humor in his voice." No, please. I mean it feels too good, Ares. Please, don't stop." He continued his motions on me, continued to lick me and move his fingers in my anus until I cried out as my orgasm began.
"Oh, yes," he whispered as I convulsed around the phallus, around his fingers. "That's so good, Alynne." Before I could recover, he took the phallus out and lifted me up, carrying me to the bed once again and laying me on my back at the end of the bed. He placed my legs against him, my feet on either shoulder and rubbed his entire length against my clit several times. I waited to feel his cock inside me once again, but instead I felt a warmth spread over my buttocks and clit. He poured some oil on me and was rubbing it all over the phallus.
"Now, some practice."
One finger slipped inside me, stretching the tight rim of my ass once again. Another then another joined it. I breathed through my mouth in an attempt to keep from tightening my muscles as Vercingetorix had taught me. Then he slid the phallus inside me, and I gasped as I felt it fill me. His thumb did a lazy circle on my clit, and then I felt the head of his cock press against my cunt. Oh, gods! I couldn't believe he would be able to enter me. But he did. When he penetrated me completely, I could not stop my scream of pleasure. I had never felt this way before, felt so completely full, felt such delicious pressure inside.
"You like that, Alynne?" he whispered as his eyes closed. "Oh, it feels so good, you're so tight when it's in you. Fuck, it feels so good."
"It's too much!" I cried out even as I loved the pleasure.
"You can take it. You have to take it," he whispered to me. He licked his thumb and then slid it over my almost bursting clit and then began thrusting. I stared blindly ahead, felt my heart beating so fast I was afraid I would die. I could feel another orgasm building, feel that sweetness start in my clit and deep in my cunt.
"Admit it," he said, his voice thick. "You'd love to fuck two men, one licking and sucking you while the other fucked you. You want two men to fuck you, two men with their hard cocks inside of you."
I nodded. Iphicles and Ares. With each thrust, the head of his cock brushed the sensitive spot inside of me and I soon felt the waves of pleasure begin. My back arched as I spasmed around his cock and Iphicles' phallus.
"That's it, Alynne. That's it. That's good. That's so good. Oh, fuck, that's so good," he gasped as he thrust slowly inside me, my waves of pleasure still convulsing me around him. I wept uncontrollably, and he started thrusting more rapidly until he panted over me, his sweat dripping off his face onto my breasts. He shuddered and groaned as his cock pulsed, shooting his hot semen inside of me once again.
"Oh, Alynne," he whispered, "That was so fucking good." He pulled his cock out, and lay on top of me, but left the phallus still inside. "It's going to be so fucking good, the three of us." He said, his mouth on my neck. Oh, gods. That was his plan. To fuck us both at the same time. I covered my face with my hands.
"When I saw him on top of you on the battlefield, I wasn't sure if he really could kill you" I opened my eyes. He watched my face, to gauge my response. "I saw you fighting, Alynne and watched as you and Iphicles made your way to each other - as if you were drawn to each other. As if the gods were pushing you together." He grinned. "Pesky gods..."
"And then when he threw you down and lay on top of you, well. You can imagine what went through my mind." He kissed me and brushed my hair off my brow. "I watched him take his knife out - the King loves to kill with his knife, up close. Likes to watch his enemy die, feel their blood on his hands." I shook my head. This was not the Iphicles I knew. The one I was so attracted to. Then I remembered his beautiful face dark with bloodlust as he sat above me and I waited for him to kill me.
"You don't want to believe me, do you?" he laughed. "It's true. But that was not to be your day of death, Alynne. When I saw him hesitate, I knew he recognized you as the Princess, as Vercingetorix's wife. How fitting, that he should almost mow you down in his bloodlust. But he stopped long enough to actually look at you. He knew you were now the Queen. He couldn't kill the Queen. He has too much respect for the title. At least, that's what he told me." He kissed my collarbones, one after the other.
"He's so emotional, my lover. But you already know that, don't you? That's why you want him. He's so responsive, so tender a lover." He watched my face closely. "You want him so much, to be his lover, to feel his mouth on you, to feel his cock inside you." I closed my eyes and looked away.
"The two of you - you belong together. I knew that when I saw him spare you. Poetic justice really, I suppose. I was standing there watching him as he put his knife away, and thought that he really does need a wife. He really does need an heir. After all, I am unable to give him these things, right, Alynne?" He smiled at me, as I recognized my own words spoken to Iphicles that day.
"Well, here's the deal," he said, kissing me, my face, my cheek, my chin. He stopped and thrust his tongue inside my ear, and then breathed into it, his hot breath sending a shiver down my spine. "I want you two together, married. Husband and wife. I want you to give him an heir." I felt a surge of something inside when he said this. Married to Iphicles? His wife, the Queen? I couldn't speak.
"Now, I haven't actually told him about this. I want him to come to this idea himself, but I think all my maneuvering is beginning to work. He feels so guilty about your widowhood and the loss of your children. He feels so protective of you, especially from me, my decadence. He's so attracted to you as a woman as well. It's only a matter of time before he falls in love. I know him too well."
"He won't. He loves you too much. He made love with me out of pity."
"No, you're wrong. I can tell. He's comfortable with you. You understand a King's lot. You just lost a husband, your children. You're still young and desirable. You'd make him a wonderful wife."
"What makes you thing you can just arrange our marriage? He may not want a wife, he may not want me as a wife. He wants you."
"No, no. We've talked before about this, Iphicles and I. He knows I think he should find a wife. But its so hard to find a woman we both want." I turned to him, a look of shock on my face.
"Yes, Alynne. You think I have no say in this? I have veto power. He's mine. Don't forget it." He rubbed his hard cock against me again. "Any wife of Iphicles had better be prepared to have two husbands, because I'll always be there, with him. When he takes his pleasure with you, Alynne, I'll be there taking mine. With both of you." He pushed my thighs apart with his knee, and thrust his cock inside of me in one motion. "Feel that?" he whispered as my back arched with pleasure. "Both our cocks inside you at once."
"Get used to it."
End of Part 5
I woke up the next morning beside Ares. He had his thigh thrown over my leg and one arm around my waist, his hand cradling my breast. It took me a moment to remember where I was and who I was with - then I remembered the previous night and day of endless sex. I turned to face him. His eyes were open and a small smile curved his full lips.
"Good morning, wife," he chuckled.
"Ares," I said, annoyed. "I thought gods didn't sleep.
"We don't, but I wanted to see you sleep. Know what I'll be missing all those nights when I'm off fucking someone else while you and Iphicles are sleeping." I closed my eyes. Everything he did and said seemed to be calculated to hurt, to jab, to chide.
"So, are you ready for some fun?" He raised one eyebrow as he said this and a feeling of dread went through me.
"Iphicles is the most horny early in the morning. He's a very early riser - has to get up and going with all his kingly duties waiting. Let's go see him, shall we? He's quite a performer. You'll love it, Alynne." I gasped as I felt myself falling and then when the motion stopped, I was standing in the King's bedroom, still naked, Ares was standing behind me, dressed in his black leathers. He had one arm around me across my chest, while the other stroked down my thigh and hip.
Iphicles lay naked on his bed - masturbating. His knees were slightly bent and splayed. One hand cradled his balls and stroked his anus while the other slid quickly over his hard cock, slick with saliva and precum. His back was arched and his muscled chest was glowing from a sheen of sweat. His head was thrown back, his copper curls spread out on the bed beneath him, and his eyes were closed, his lovely face flushed with arousal.
Gods, he was so beautiful.
"Don't you just love it? Look how fucking desirable he is, Alynne!" Ares whispered in my ear. "Don't worry, he can't see or hear us. He's blissfully unaware that he's being watched, although he knows I can watch him anytime I want." I looked back at him, shock on my face.
"Oh, yes, Alynne. Consider this fair warning. There are no secrets between us anymore. I can pop in and watch or listen to you at any time, so don't think you can fool me." I turned back - unable to resist the sight of the King pleasuring himself. His hand moved rapidly over his huge cock, and then seemed to slow, then pick up speed again, as if he was deliberately resisting his orgasm. I wanted to watch him cum, see his white fluid spurting out onto his chest. Hear his grunts as the pleasure of his ejaculation overtook him.
"He's thinking of you, Alynne. He wishes he was fucking you, he wishes you were sucking him now, instead of him jerking off. But look - he's slipped a finger in his ass - he wants me as well. Me fucking him while you suck him. Maybe me fucking him while he fucks you. Either way's fine with me." Ares shook his head. "Poor Iphicles."
"How do you know that?" I replied, anger in my voice. "Maybe he's thinking of someone completely different."
"No, no, he always wants me, and now he wants you, Alynne. I know its you he's thinking about though - he knows if he needs to have sex, to call me. I don't usually turn him down. Not without a purpose. No," he added, and I could feel his huge erection through his leather pants, hard against my buttock, "he's definitely thinking of you, Alynne. He's thinking of the night before last - when he fucked you, when you sucked him."
"Can you read his mind?"
"No, but I don't need to. I know him. He wants you." He left me and went to the bed and stood watching Iphicles, whose thighs were shaking as he neared his orgasm. Ares was stroking his own massive erection through the leather.
"Yes, sweet Iphicles, you have such a beautiful cock. Since you want Alynne so much, I'll just have to deny you her - make you want her all the more. Or, maybe I should offer her up to you on a platter. Which would work better?" He turned to me and smiled. It was such an evil smile. "I don't know, Alynne. What do you think?" I didn't answer. My eyes were drawn to Iphicles as he stroked himself.
"This is so rude, Ares. This is a private act. You shouldn't be doing this, watching him." He laughed at this show of morality on my part. "Nonsense," he said in that low deep rumble, his hand slowly stroking the outline of his cock. "I'm a god. Such things don't apply. All that limits me is my power." We both turned back to Iphicles - he was moving his head back and forth, his face contorted as the pleasure mounted.
"Oh, I'd better stop this now, or the poor man won't get to fuck me." He looked over at me and saw the shock on my face. "Don't worry - you'll stay invisible. You can watch us. Get used to seeing us fucking, Alynne. He may be your future husband, but he's my lover. Oh, and by the way - I can see you, so don't try and hide. Not that I think you would. You want to see this as much as I do." Then I watched as Ares knelt down on the bed beside Iphicles and Iphicles startled, a gasp coming from his lips as he saw Ares kneeling on the bed beside him.
"Hello, Iphicles. I thought I'd check in on you, see what you were up to." Iphicles' hand stopped its motion and he sat up quickly. His face flushed in embarrassment and anger as he realized Ares had been watching him. "Fuck, Ares. Can't you show some courtesy?" Ares lay down on his side beside Iphicles and leaned down on one elbow. He chuckled.
"I think it was a perfect time to drop in. You look like you could use some... help... with that," he said, a big grin on his face. He gestured to Iphicles' erection, jutting straight up against his belly. Iphicles shook his head.
"Ares," he said, closing his eyes. "What do you want?"
"Sex!" Ares laughed, "What else? Pleasant conversation?" With that, Ares pushed Iphicles back on the bed and crawled between his legs. His black leather strained against his strong build. Iphicles watched as Ares mouth moved down to lick the wet head of his cock and then laid back, closing his eyes in resignation.
"That's it, lover," Ares whispered, as his clothing vanished. "Lean back and let me suck your beautiful cock." Ares' mouth closed around Iphicles' cock and pulled on the head. His hand stroked the thick shaft.
"So," he said, pulling off and looking up at Iphicles who had propped himself back up so he could watch. "Tell me about Alynne. How was she? Satisfactory?"
"Ares!" Iphicles said in a deep low voice. "Shut up. Just suck my cock."
Ares laughed. "What? Don't tell me you're shy - don't want to talk about your new lover! Come on! You KNOW I love to hear about these things." Ares' hand resumed its motion on Iphicles' cock. "Come on now - I'm curious what she's like as a lover. I won't suck you, I won't let you fuck me until you give it to me - all the details. How she tasted, how good her mouth felt when she sucked your cock, how she screamed as you made her cum - twice."
At that, I felt a shock go through me. Would Ares brag that he had made me cum nine times? Iphicles shook his head in disgust. "You already know what she's like as a lover, Ares. You tell me."
"Alynne?" Ares said, his eyebrows raised as if in thought. "She's fine, well, more than just fine, as mortal women go. But I want to hear your impressions. How you liked her. So we can compare notes."
"You're fooling yourself if you think I'm going to tell you."
Ares removed his hand. "Fine with me, Iphicles. Jerk yourself off."
Iphicles smiled and took his cock into his own hand and lay back, closing his eyes as he resumed his motion. I could almost feel Ares' anger radiating off him and was afraid for Iphicles. Ares watched as Iphicles masturbated as if unconcerned about Ares or his reaction. "You impudent bastard..." Ares almost roared, and I gasped in shock as Iphicles hands were, all at once, bound to the posts of the bed with rough rope. His feet were likewise restrained. Then the god lay on top of Iphicles and kissed him savagely, their massive cocks rubbing against each other.
"Ares! It's always the same - things don't go your way and you have to use force."
"Shut up and suck my cock."
Ares loomed over Iphicles and shoved his dripping cock into the King's mouth. Iphicles could not help but accept it - I watched as he gagged when Ares thrust too deeply into his throat. Ares was angry. He wanted Iphicles to talk about our encounter and was mad when Iphicles refused. I felt so sad for Iphicles - he was trying to be honorable - to keep our encounter private, and now would pay the price.
"Don't hurt him, Ares!" I whispered.
"I'm going to hurt you, you son of a bitch!" he roared, as Iphicles sucked and licked his cock. "I'll show you what happens when you refuse your god." I ran to the side of the bed and leaned over, my face in front of Ares so I could get his attention.
"Please, Ares! Don't hurt him!" I cried. "I'll do anything you want. Don't hurt him." Ares turned his head and looked at me when I said this and watched my face as he thrust hard into Iphicles' mouth. His eyes were half closed and his hands gripped the head of the bed.
"All right, Alynne," he said as he continued to thrust. "Don't worry - he can't hear me talking. I won't hurt him. But you have to agree to my terms. I'm giving you back to him. I want you to fuck his brains out while I'm away and then talk him into letting the three of us fuck. He won't take much convincing." I closed my eyes. I felt the tears welling up in them, felt such humiliation fill me. I couldn't stop from crying. Ares was such a decadent beast.
"Agreed?' he asked. "Agreed," I replied through my tears.
"Good. Now I'm going to cum in his mouth so that when he kisses you in a few moments, you'll taste me and remember our bargain. When I make you visible, I want you to act as though I brought you from your bed. Don't let him know that you've been here all along." I nodded when he looked at me, waiting for my response.
He looked down at Iphicles and moaned. "Oh, fuck, Iphicles. You have the most skilled mouth."
Then he bit down on that full bottom lip and grunted out his orgasm, his cock shuddering, emptying his hot seed into Iphicles mouth. I watched as Iphicles swallowed Ares' cum. It aroused me so much that I couldn't stop my tears, knowing how much this god could and would hurt us both, degrade us both.
Then Ares pulled his cock out of Iphicles' mouth. "Ares," Iphicles gasped, still swallowing the last of Ares semen, his deep voice angered, "You are a fucking bastard."
"Oh, that's not a nice thing to say to your god, Iphicles, especially when I was going to give Alynne to you - ask you to ... look after her for me while I'm away." Iphicles closed his eyes as Ares said this. Ares sat on the bed beside Iphicles and stroked the King's still erect cock.
"Ares, what's your game now?"
"Nothing! Well, she does need looking after, poor girl. You have to remember she only recently lost her husband, and is quite desperate for sex. Last night I must have made her cum, what? Nine times in a row?"
Iphicles' eyes opened in shock.
"Yes!" Ares smiled. "She's quite a woman. Lots of capacity. Remember that - when you fuck her. She'll expect to cum at least - three times for each of your orgasms."
"Why do you want to hurt her? She's done nothing to you, Ares."
"I'm not hurting her. Zeus! I'm giving her pleasure beyond her wildest imaginings."
Iphicles shook his head.
"So..." Ares began, his hand teasing the head of Iphicles' cock. "Are you in agreement? You'll take care of her for me? Keep her satisfied while I'm away?"
"Ares!" Iphicles said, his voice exasperated.
"You know - I've been thinking that we'd make a really great threesome. You and Alynne - well, you've already had a taste of each other - like what you felt. OF course, you and I, well, what can I say? Classic. Alynne and I? I think she only tolerates me. She thinks I'm a beast. So, Iphicles, you need to work on her while I'm away. Get her to consider a little love triangle."
"Ares, you are a bastard."
Ares laughed. "You know, that's precisely what she said to me! Of course, its not true, but I appreciate the sentiment." He bent down and took Iphicles' cock into his mouth. Iphicles gasped as he felt Ares' lips close around him, and his hips bucked reflexively. Ares sucked Iphicles for a moment then pulled off and looked at Iphicles' face now filled with pleasure.
"So, you'll look after her for me? Work on her?"
"Ares!" Iphicles gasped.
"Good! I know she'll appreciate it. She's really hot for you, Iphicles. I don't think she likes me too much, though, so you might have quite a job on your hands convincing her. I seem to make the poor thing cry, even when I make her cum. Our little Queen from Gaul. Queen without a kingdom. What a shame."
At that, I appeared and Ares did something so that I was disoriented, and did not have to act as if I'd just been transported. I cried and held my hands out, trying to steady myself as I felt the dizziness overtake me. I closed my eyes hard as nausea washed over me. Then I opened my eyes and saw Ares sitting beside Iphicles, his hand stroking Iphicles' cock. The King was still restrained and when he saw me, his face went deep red. I covered myself and wept and then he lay back and closed his eyes.
"There she is, Iphicles. Our pretty Queen from Gaul. Still crying are you, Alynne? Such a sensitive soul you have. I really must watch my mouth more in the future." He stood up and came to me, taking me roughly in his arms and crushing me against him. He kissed me aggressively, forcing my mouth open against my will. He smiled as he pulled back.
"Well, you two!" Ares said in a jovial voice. "I'm off with Julius to the campaigns in Gaul for some fun. Iphicles, I know you're busy this week so you can't come to play with me." He turned back and looked at me. "So Alynne, I have to leave you for a while, but I'm sure Iphicles here will be glad to stand in for me." He pushed me over to the bed and I fell onto it, coming to rest beside Iphicles.
Then he was gone.
I went right over and started untying his bonds. "Oh, Iphicles!" I wept, as I struggled with the tight knots. "He's such a bastard!"
When I had both his hands untied, he removed the ropes that held his feet in place. I crouched on the bed beside him and covered my eyes, weeping with shame and humiliation. Then he sat beside me and cradled me in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Alynne. He's so callous sometimes. Like he has no feelings, no emotions." He said nothing for a few moments and I realized we were both naked. Iphicles erection had vanished with Ares. We had been naked together before, but still, I felt bad for him - that I had come in to the room when Ares had been masturbating him.
"Do you have something I could wear? I'm... cold." I asked as a shiver went through me. Iphicles stood up and went to his wardrobe. He took out a robe and brought it to me, and I tied it around me. He seemed unconcerned about his own nakedness as he sat back down beside me and pulled me into his arms.
"He's punishing us because we're attracted to each other," he said as he took one of my hands in his and stroked my palm. "He wants to humiliate us as a way of trying to ease the jealousy he feels. He won't admit it, of course, but I know it's true." He lifted my face and wiped my tears away.
"He can't stand the fact that you and I can have a normal relationship - that we can feel real emotions for each other. He can't feel them and he hates us for it, even as he wants us both." I thought he was right. Ares did hate it that Iphicles and I had found comfort in each other's arms, that we felt desire for each other. Ares wanted to be the only one for whom we felt lust.
"Maybe you're right. But if he's jealous, why is he leaving me with you? He should be keeping us apart if he feels that way." Iphicles shook his head. "No - then he'd be admitting that it bothered him. Admitting it would be as bad as actually feeling jealous. Ares needs to be the center of everyone's' lust. Then he's happy. But I think there's a part of him that wants us together. Knowing Ares, he probably wants us to all get together so he can enjoy us both at the same time."
I looked up at him. He blushed when he saw my shocked face. Iphicles was going to try to talk me into the threesome already - I was stunned. I thought he would wait, but I suppose this situation lent itself to this kind of talk. I said nothing and quickly looked away.
"In fact, I'm certain that's what he wants, Alynne. For us to be a threesome."
I sighed. "I think you're right. He... seemed to want to talk a lot about you. About us - about when we made love. He said he thought we were good together. I thought he was just being sarcastic, or was trying to trick me into admitting how much I wanted you." I looked up at him shyly. He smiled at me.
"I know. He talked about you too. He said... he said you were an amazing lover." I laughed. "Everyone's an amazing lover with Ares. He's a god, after all. He never ceased reminding me of this fact." Iphicles laughed as well. "He's good at that - letting everyone know who he is." Then the smile left his face and he looked at me through half-closed eyes.
"He said that you had ... many orgasms when you were with him."
"Oh, gods," I whispered, covering my eyes, my face turning red. He turned my face to his and shook his head. "Alynne. Don't be embarrassed. I know what Ares is like. He's insatiable. Making you feel so much pleasure is his way of ... making me seem insignificant. I can never compete with him."
"It's him who can't compete with you, Iphicles. He'll never be able to ... make me feel, well, feel cared for. Ares doesn't care about me, about my feelings and emotions. All he cares about is his maintaining his dominance over everyone - his sense of superiority." I hesitated, not knowing what to say. "I don't know if I can ... comply with his wishes."
He placed his cheek against mine. "Ares gets what he wants. As I said to you when we first met - I give Ares what he wants. If I don't he takes it anyway. You'll have to decide for yourself to comply or not, Alynne. But he'll force you if you resist. Just so you know - I won't resist. I'd rather this not happen. I'd rather that we could keep things... separate. But if Ares wants it..."
"He does want it. He told me he wants us all to be lovers. A threesome."
"He told me as well. He's such a bastard - making me think you had no idea. That I had to try to convince you."
"He's set us up." I laughed, but the tears still came to my eyes. I knew this was going to happen. Iphicles knew about it, he was willing to comply. I knew about it. I knew Ares would make it happen one way or another.
"Oh, gods," I cried into his shoulder. "What's happened to me? How low will I be dragged by this god?" Iphicles pulled me tightly against him, his lips pressing against the skin on my neck. "Just try and do what I do - blank it out of your mind. Forget it. Accept that his power is too great to prevail. It doesn't work - not completely, but it helps." Then his lips found mine and we kissed. I tasted Ares on Iphicles' tongue, just as he said I would. Iphicles pushed me down onto my back and lay on top of me.
"Just know, Alynne, that I want you so much. I want us to be lovers so much. This is the only way we can be together."
"I know." I replied. "It's the only way."
He reached down and untied the belt to the robe I wore and pulled it open. I sat up and took it off and threw it on the floor then lay back down underneath him, my mouth seeking his out once again. We kissed and our hands explored each other's bodies hungrily. I could barely get enough of his smooth skin, his wonderful muscles, his delicious body hair. Just touching him aroused me, kissing those full lips.
He leaned down and sucked on my nipples but I knew it was he who needed relief after Ares had teased him so cruelly. I pushed him onto his back and he complied as I ran my tongue down his glorious body, tasting his smooth golden skin, sucking his brown nipples to points before moving lower to his swollen cock. I stroked his thighs, licked the tender skin just below his sac, flicked my tongue around the thick shaft, sucked at the head, taking it into my mouth while my tongue rolled against the smooth skin. I squeezed his cock to draw out his precum and tasted his saltiness - it aroused me so much. I was going to suck him till he came - I was determined. He deserved it, after Ares' cruel treatment.
I tried to establish a pleasant stroke, firm and swift, while moving my mouth up and down over the head of his cock. Soon, he was panting as he watched me suck him, his muscles tensed, and I knew he was so close. He stopped me - pushed me off his cock.
"Alynne, stop!" he gasped, swallowing hard. "I almost came."
"I want you to!" I cried, moving back to his cock, my mouth taking him in once again.
"No!" he insisted, lifting me off and pulling me up to him. "I want to fuck you instead. Make you cum while I'm inside you."
"Iphicles - don't feel you have to do this. I want to suck you. We can rest, and fuck later. I want to make you cum this way..." I kissed him, trying to convince him of my desire for this, but he shook his head, and pushed me onto my back, crushing me under him.
"No, Alynne. I want to make you cum first by licking you, then I want to fuck you. We can do this later."
"Iphicles!" I said, my voice too loud from frustration. I pushed against his chest, trying to move him off me. "Don't let anything Ares told you about me - about the number of times he made me... cum, make you feel you have to reach some magic number."
Iphicles smiled and let his full weight drop on me, and I pounded his chest in mock anger when I saw that face above me. He leaned down and kissed me, his tongue parting my lips. His hand stroked up my side and squeezed my breast, pinching my nipple to hardness and then slid down to my thighs. He moved onto his side just enough so he could part my legs and stroke my flesh.
"Don't argue with me, Alynne. I'm bigger than you. I'll use force if necessary," he said, his voice deep and soft, his lips curved in a seductive smile. He moved down between my open thighs.
"Please do," I whispered in reply, my back arching as his lips found my clit and sucked so sweetly.
"Oh, yes," a deep baritone replied, "please do, Iphicles."
I gasped and opened my eyes, and found myself staring into Ares' dark brown ones, just a handbreadth away from my face. Iphicles as well looked up at the sound of Ares' voice.
"Fuck, Ares!" he said, his voice dark, angered. "Would it be too much to ask if you let us alone for just once?"
"Well, yes, actually, it would," he replied, his voice slightly angered. "I thought you both understood that this is to be a threesome. Well, here we all are. Three of us."
He laughed then and his hand moved to Iphicles' back and stroked down from his shoulder blades to his buttocks. "You know, I leave you two alone for less than, what, 20 minutes, and when I come back to find something, guess what I find? You two arguing over who is gonna make who cum first!"
I covered my eyes. Ares was naked, lying next to us, his massive cock jutting out defiantly as his hand stroked the bulging head. "Well, I'll tell you how it's going to go. Iphicles is going to lick you until you cum. Then he's going to fuck you, Alynne while I suck your clit until you cum. Then both of us...both of us are going to fuck you until all three of us cum."
Iphicles looked in my eyes. He nodded his head slightly, letting me know he was going to comply - that it was my decision - I had to decide if I wanted to fight and be forced to comply, or give in and try to enjoy what was going to happen anyway.
I nodded back and he moved up to me and kissed me deeply as he rubbed his hard cock against my flesh. As he realized we were willing accomplices in his little game, Ares reached his hand out and slipped it in between us. I heard Ares' sigh of pleasure when he touched Iphicles cock and my wet flesh at the same time.
We complied. What else could we do?
End of Part 6
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