“O Aphrodite, Intoxicating Goddess of Love. Please accept the sacrifice of my body to Your pleasure, to Your whims and fancy. I humbly surrender myself to Your use. Do with this most unworthy vessel what Your Magnificence desires. I patiently await Your coming.” The pale, smooth-skinned blonde youth flung his loincloth aside and bent his head in submission.
His sun-bleached silken curls bobbed as his lashes swept down over his eyes, blue and sparkling like the clear pond that surrounded the marble-pillared shrine to the Goddess Aphrodite. His bright eyes closed, and his cock, erect and marble-like in its veined glory, strained toward the glowing hand of the deity who shimmered into solid form before him.
The youth trembled. A soft wind stirred. As he had been instructed, he stood motionless, hands at his sides, eyes downcast, cock full and hard. Aphrodite slipped two fingers under his chin and raised his face to meet her beneficent gaze. She smiled, sighed. A perfect youth. Golden hair. Body taut and firm. A sensuous mouth, parted and dewy with anticipation. An excellent ass. And a cock so big even a goddess might choke on it. She laughed, a soft tinkle of tiny bells. O, what Ares would do with such a cock. She admired his skills with his supplicants. There was a lovely, thick golden ring she had once seen him crown a particularly worthy young mortal’s member with… But she was losing focus.
The youth gazed, enraptured, into Aphrodite’s exquisite seafoam eyes. He moaned softly and Aphrodite offered the tiniest of nods in appreciation. She did adore being so adored. “May I serve you, my Goddess?” the youth murmured, and ran his perfect pink tongue over his full, ripe lips. Aphrodite read his mind easily, a light and arousing touch that brought her the knowledge that his offering was sincere, his willingness to submit absolute. Without speaking, she used her mind and her elegant, slender fingers to bring him to kneel before her. He moved with fluid grace as she raised her short, transparent gown, then brought his mouth to her perfect, shell-like vulva. He parted her light covering of soft blonde curls with his lips and nestled his mouth softly between her silken folds. Aphrodite tangled her fingers absently in his hair and pressed him to service. He lapped eagerly, and she basked for a moment in the warmth of his soft, wet tongue as the bright sun warmed her glowing flesh and streaked through her waist-length waves of shining, flaxen hair.
She breathed in deeply as he began to suck, and she smelled something amiss. He was more skilled than someone of his tender years should be. She frowned down at him as he expertly teased the hardening pink bud of her clitoris. Though he tried to look the part of a virgin, he was not. His mouth was too agile, and she could distinctly smell the knowledge of mortal woman on him. She tugged on his curls to pull his mouth from her and his eyes to hers. She made her glance smolder and burn for him—mortals loved being frightened, it heightened their arousal, and hers. “Youth, you come to your Goddess tainted.” It was not a question; Aphrodite spoke calmly, without emotion.
He met her gaze from his kneeling position—beseeched her with his eyes a moment before he spoke. “I humbly beg mercy, Great Goddess Aphrodite. I should never have tried to deceive You. You are right. I have lain with…women. I thought I would please You the better for the experience. I sought…I hoped….” He faltered.
“Speak, mortal. You have earned my wrath—and I do so dislike being angered.”
He shuddered, took a deep breath, let his obscenely long lashes drift down over his sensuous eyes. “I hoped to please You well enough to serve You…many times….”
“Prideful whelp,” Aphrodite snapped. “You wished for yourself a prize beyond your meager reckoning. I am a goddess, not some ignorant wench enamored of your weak mortal beauty. You hoped for a gift no mortal has ever earned, ever deserved. Foolish boy: it is true innocence I wish to sample when I come to your realm, not the reek and film of mortality that clings to you.” He remained still, sitting on his heels, eyes down, but not nearly as repentant as he should be. She inhaled again; damned if the youth was not still lying! “You have shared that whore’s body with men as well as women, have you not, youth?”
A gasp escaped before he could reign in his control. He looked up into the goddess’s magnificent eyes, now shining silver, unreadable. “I…” he began, then stopped, looked down again. His cock softened.
She rather pitied the little man. He was so proud, now so quickly ashamed. His mind easily yielded the information: three women, one man—all to gain experience to please his Goddess. She wished she cared more. His mouth was skilled. His body was magnificent, in its lean, toned way. He was a confection, a morsel to consume. Then why could she think only of the older man she saw in his mind, the one he had given himself to, roughly using the youth’s beautiful body to sate his appetites? Why did the image of Ares again appear in all his magnificence, whip cracking in his hand over the bodies of obedient young mortal men and women? She brought her mind back to the problem at hand. She sighed, a whisper of wind and sweetness no mortal or god could hear and not long to hear again.
“So, youth, what shall be done with you?” she asked, running a pale pink fingernail over her even white teeth.
He remained delightfully still and silent.
“Shall I take you, just as your mortal man did?”
“Yes, I think that will suit your Goddess well. Present yourself for me, youth.”
He moved swiftly to all fours, shivering at a breeze that was too warm to bring a chill. Aphrodite noticed that his cock was again hard, all marble majesty. She laughed in her mind: no, she would not ease that ache for him. He had earned it. She let her gaze linger on that hardness another moment, used her mind to bring the sensation of a tongue licking the pre-cum from the tip. The youth moaned. An image of Ares’ cock suddenly loomed before her, with her mouth wet and parted before it and his large, firm hand in her hair, drawing her down. She shook her head, felt for compulsion. No, Ares’ mind was not in hers. The image was of her own devising, though entirely unbidden. What was wrong with her today?
Reigning in her disturbing imagination with a tight mental grip, she focused on the boy. She ran her fingers over his back and watched him shiver. She let her touch move to that perfect ass. He arched lightly into her hand, and she slapped him, hard. He winced, cried out softly. She wished she was enjoying this as much as he was. “Come, youth, show me what you did with that raven-haired man at that darkened stall in the marketplace last week. Use your fingers as he used his on you.”
He moved to obey, supporting himself on one lithely muscled arm and reaching the other beneath himself.
“Wait,” Aphrodite beckoned. “Allow me.” She bent before him, luxurious cleavage making his mouth water as he looked up at the Goddess of all of his dreams and fantasies. She sucked gently on his fingers, first one, then two. He groaned softly. She caught an image in her mind of him masturbating in his bed at night, stroking his thick, oiled cock with a firm hand. As he stroked, he was thinking of her…on all fours, serving him! Impudent, impossible mortal! Then why did the image make her suck harder on his fingers? Why was her golden pussy wet and swelling? Surely she did not want to be used so. She let his fingers quickly slip from her mouth, and stood up, proud and statuesque, as befitted the Goddess of Love. She watched him carry his slick fingers to his anus, rub there in small circles.
Ah, yes, that was better. Sit back and watch the show. Enjoy her power. She made a small golden throne appear—ornate and shining, in the feminine style associated with her—and sat, crossing her legs delicately over one scrolled arm. A marble phallus appeared in her hand. She smiled at the toy she formed from the air. It looked exactly like the youth’s cock.
The youth began to finger his ass, arching into his deft fingers, cock straining blindly beneath him, craving her touch. Not today, little one, though Aphrodite. Today is for obedience. “Bring that whore’s ass to your Goddess, youth,” she said, calmly. He removed his fingers and came to her on his hands and knees. “Good boy,” she cooed, as she slipped the marble cock into his mouth. He sucked it obediently, and she casually enjoyed pumping his mouth. Her mind wandered again, imagining herself in the youth’s position, sucking that cold, hard phallus while Ares moved behind her, all power and fluid muscle, grabbing her trim, supple hips in his warm, meaty hands and…
Damn! Enough is enough, she thought, taking the toy from the youth’s mouth. Time to show this youth who was the immortal. Time to remind herself. “Let me see that pretty little mortal ass you shared with others when you were supposed to be saving it for your Goddess.” She spanked him again as he moved into position, two hard slaps. She watched his golden cheeks redden, admired the downy hair there, his heavy balls, his supple back arching to expose his vulnerable asshole. He offered a beautiful view of the best mortal man had to offer. She caressed his ass. Such a sight was rare for her: rarely did she have to show her dominance so clearly with mortal men. They were generally an eager lot, especially the youths who sweetly and humbly offered her their virginity. Even the older men she visited at whim—what a treat it was to stun them with her glowing beauty as she drifted into their dreams, wakened them lightly, and rode their hard cocks to orgasm—all served her fully and obediently. But this mortal, this boy, offered a challenge. And she was up to it.
While her graceful fingers gently traced ancient patterns on his flesh, she brought the phallus to his anus. She teased him with it, heard his breath escape with a rush, heard a rumbled groan begin deep within him. She felt in his mind for his arousal and used it to fuel hers. “Surrender yourself to me, youth,” she whispered. “Give me your body and your will. Yield to my control.” His body relaxed as she pressed and twisted the marble toy into his tight hole. He moaned quietly, his mind hummed with pleasure and need. She began to fuck him with long, deep, hard strokes that made him dizzy and shattered conscious thought.
She suddenly became aware of a deep-throated laugh in her mind. It was certainly not coming from her submissive mortal. It had a confidence and power he was incapable of. The husky laugh was a gentle caress of pleasure, a taunting, playful smile in her mind. It moved her, somehow, reached her in a way the youth alone did not. Someone was watching her and enjoying himself. She reached out mentally, seeking the mind behind the teasing chuckle. Who else: Ares.
She pumped the phallus faster into the youth’s tight ass, then slipped her other hand around to cup and toy with his balls. His whole body tensed and his mind became wild. He had not expected more than to be roughly used. The laughter in Aphrodite’s mind found a harsher edge as her cool fingers moved to wrap loosely around the youth’s shaft. Then the strong voice of Ares, God of War, was in her mind. Is this how you display your mastery, sweet Aphrodite? He was just beginning to lose hope that he would find satisfaction at your hands. You are too soft, too merciful.
How dare you, Ares, you cocky son-of-Hera! He is my servant, not yours, Aphrodite snapped, pushing out her deliciously full, moist bottom lip. She felt the image of Ares biting it, hard. Stop! she gasped.
The laugh in her mind was full, throaty. But dear, delectable Aphrodite, why would you want a servant when you can have a slave?
You’re impossible. Get out of my mind and let me finish this.
“Finish this”? If that is the most arousal you can muster, precious Goddess, perhaps you had better leave the domination to those who know how to handle it…and enjoy it.
“Goddess?” the youth whimpered, turning his head and tentatively raising his eyes to Aphrodite’s. She had stopped touching him as she argued with Ares.
Damn, she thought, and began to ride that pretty little ass with the marble rod again, harder and faster. The youth gasped and bent his head again. “Do you like that, youth? Serving your Goddess with your…servitude?” Aphrodite suppressed a yawn. She could not even be bothered to be clever. What was wrong with her? She pumped the phallus harder. The youth groaned, and she smiled to herself then, but her wrist began to fatigue, so she gave the driving over to magic and rested her hands in her lap. The youth was facing away from her; he’d never know it was not her hand that used him.
And Ares was back, fully in her mind, laughing gently at her. Poor Aphrodite…, he teased. She felt his hand weaving through her hair, caressing her softly. The contrast between the nasty voice and gentle hand aroused her, despite herself.
No! she snapped. I do not need help from the likes of you…depraved one. But her words were unconvincing—or, rather, “depraved” sounded more like an endearment than an insult.
Sweetness—let me help you with this mortal. His mind touch was soothing, and she felt his hand on hers, moving to swat the youth, hard, on his upturned ass. Then again. The mortal was shocked but loving it; Aphrodite could feel it in her mind. His adrenaline flooded her mind, and she felt energized and excited. See, darling Aphrodite, Ares knows just how to please you both. His voice coaxed and she felt the soft brush of fingertips on her nipples through the filmy gauze of her short gown.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them wide as she felt her hand slap the youth’s ass again just as sharp teeth seemed to nip at her left nipple. She drew her breath in sharply. She shook her head to clear it.
Stand before him, Aphrodite; let him see your awesome glory, Ares enticed.
Without meaning to, her body drifted upwards, until she was standing in front of the youth’s face. Her hand went to his hair and pulled his face up with one hand while the other raised her gown again, his warm breath on her glistening triangle of pale-gold curls. The phallus still rode him hard, though he did not seem to notice that no hand controlled it. She pressed his face again to service, and basked in the skill of his warm tongue.
Oh yes, Ares moaned softly, you like it just like that, do you not, my hungry Goddess?
Aphrodite gave herself up to the pleasure for a moment. Then she struggled to regain control over her body from Ares. She pulled back on the youth’s hair and freed herself from his probing tongue. Why had she given in so easily to Ares’ silken commands? Damn you to Hades, Ares! The youth is mine—and I am no one’s!
As you wish, dearest Goddess of Love, the God of War replied, drifting back to the edge of her mind.
“Lie before me,” Aphrodite commanded the youth.
He obeyed, instantly, phallus still filling him but still now. Her mind brought vines to bind his wrists and ankles, but it must have been Ares who added those that swiftly twined across his chest and hips and over his forehead. Aphrodite wanted to protest, but she stopped herself: she liked the way he looked all trussed up and waiting for her. The youth held his breath, eyes wide and staring up into the Goddess’s for reassurance, for comfort. He found none in the icy gaze that roamed his body possessively.
She bent before him then, a swift fluid motion that brought her mouth to his chest. She bit him hard, leaving perfect even little teeth marks in his soft skin. She moved a few inches over and bit harder, drawing a dot of blood and causing the mortal to wince as a guttural moan escaped him. Grabbing his jaw tightly in her long fingernails, she whispered, darkly, “Be silent, youth, and serve me.” Then she brought her teeth to his nipples and bit, sharply. When he winced again but was silent, biting his lips to restrain himself, she felt Ares groan in her mind. Arousing the God should not have been a concern to her, but she could not help smiling.
Having caused pain, she now soothed the youth with pleasure, swirling her warm, wet tongue across his bitten nipple, down his chest, and over his firm stomach. When she reached his cock—velvet over marble, he released his breath in a harsh rush. Her gleaming pussy hovered before his mouth as she lapped at him, licked up the length of him until she reached his head, then bit it as she ground her taste-of-heaven into his waiting mouth. Writhing in small circles, she sat up and leaned on his bound chest, leaving his cock bereft and straining. She felt Ares shift and moan in response. She grinned and encouraged both of her men, purring, “That’s right, little one, serve your Goddess, make your offering with all you have and all you are.” She rode him harder then, making it hard for him to breathe; he wriggled against his bonds, but to no avail. “Ah, youth, you are mine,” she cooed, rocking her head back and riding him to climax. She moaned softly as she felt Ares tongue drag softly across her breasts and up her pale throat. Yes, worship me, too, God of War.
When she was sated, she rose to her knees and slid back a bit, admiring the youth’s dazed expression. He had sampled the nectar of the Goddess and was drunk with it, lost in bliss. He seemed surprised when he tried to rise and found himself still tightly bound. He had no idea how long he’d been lying there: hours? minutes? Aphrodite slapped his half-erect cock to rouse him. He gasped, blinked hard and looked up into her eyes, now raging fire instead of ice. He hardened instantly, and she gave him a mirthless smile in response. “Very nice, little one. Now let us see if your Goddess cannot put that to good use.” She let the phallus begin to ride him gently again, short strokes, in and out. His breath quickened, as did Ares’, still hovering in her mind.
Slipping further back, she brought herself down hard and fast on the youth’s stiff member. Lifting off, she impaled herself again, then again, holding his eyes, gaze locked to hers. “Do you like being fucked by your Goddess, mortal?” she asked.
He could not speak for a moment as she drove her swollen velvet sheath down over him, relentlessly. “Speak,” she commanded.
“Y…yes, O…Mighty…Goddess…of…Love…” he whispered in time with her rhythm, ready to cum with only those few strokes of her divine cunt.
“Good boy.” She rode on, bringing herself taut with pleasure again. Ah, yes, fuck him, my beautiful, wanton Aphrodite, she heard Ares mutter. She laughed softly to herself, rode the youth with Ares in her mind. She felt in her mind for Ares’ pleasure, and realized his fingers were inside her…no, not her, a mortal woman. She was livid. How dare he toy with another while watching her? Was she a plaything to be used so?
She leaned forward and dug her nails into the youth’s chest. She fucked him mercilessly, holding his mind to keep his climax at bay again and again. She could have commanded it, but she could feel that he had no more resistance in him, little control. Ah, these mortals, she laughed to herself, giving herself up to the driving rhythm that brought her closer and closer to climax. She felt Ares’ cock harden as his fingers plunged into the mortal woman’s pussy as she knelt in obedience before him. He groaned again, and Aphrodite arched and shattered around the cock inside her.
Generous as the Goddess of Love always is, she gave the youth back his control as she ground slowly over him, muscles contracting and milking his climax from him. Soon, he came with a hoarse cry. Aphrodite smiled indulgently, then lifted up again and, once more, brought her soft nether lips to his open mouth and pressed down. “Clean me of your mortal fluids, youth” she murmured as he obeyed without hesitation. He was hers entirely, used for her pleasure as was her right and duty as a Goddess. His lips were soft, his tongue warm and soothing, gentle and eager. His cock was flaccid now, and though he tried to comply, his mind began to drift into sleep. Aphrodite shook her head with a grin.
Weak creatures, are they not? Ares breathed into her mind. Their wills so easily broken; their bodies so quickly exhausted. And you were so easy on him. Too easy, I think, sweet Goddess. I would not be so easy on you.
Indeed? Aphrodite chuckled, rising from the youth’s body and transforming herself into mist. She released the vines from his body and let him sleep. He would only know their meeting was real by the teeth marks in his beautiful chest. Aphrodite had never marked a mortal so before. He would carry that scar for life. Perversely—for her—she enjoyed the thought.
Even the way you mark your playthings is gentle, heavenly Aphrodite. But gentleness does not suit you always, does it? I can feel your hunger. It burns in me. Come, play with me, Goddess, let me take you somewhere new.
Aphrodite felt her mind drift as she swirled above the shrine and drifted, she knew not where. The sun was beginning to set. Ares’ voice was silk, honey, ambrosia. She would follow it anywhere.
That’s right, lovely one. Come to Ares. Let Ares rouse and quench you like no other.
Aphrodite let herself drift down to Ares lair. He compelled her, but she was very aware and very willing. Time to see what he claimed she was missing. She had so long devoted herself to her mortal servants, that she could not remember the last time she had been with a God. Ah, now she recollected: Narcissus. He had insisted they do it in front of a huge piece of polished silver. He watched himself perform the entire time. True, his cock was enormous and he lasted from sun-up until sun-down, but she was the Goddess of Love, for Zeus’s sake. She deserved adoration, worship—at least more attention than his own image!
Forget Narcissus, Aphrodite. I’ve had him myself. He insisted one of my slaves use some mortal tool called a “videocamera” that he picked up in his time travels. He kept it pointed at my cock up his ass the entire time. I’d much rather think about the time you shared oral pleasure with Atalanta. Now that was stamina.
Aphrodite blushed beautifully as she glided down to land softly, on the tips of her toes, before Ares on his throne. He sat, unruly black waves of hair falling to his shoulders, white teeth flashing, eyes alight with pleasure in seeing her in physical form before him. On his lap, a buxom naked mortal lay, writhing as he ground his fingers into the core of her. He let his eyes take in Aphrodite’s elegant features. Licked his full lips as he admired her firm, ripe breasts. Plunged a finger into his plaything’s ass as he raked her, head to toe, with his molten gaze.
“Put that child away, Ares,” Aphrodite said with confidence. “The Goddess of Love demands your full attention.”
“Demands, does she?” he said, his liquid-silver eyes aglow with desire. He shifted to drop the mortal unceremoniously on the floor beside him. The censure in Aphrodite’s glittering green eyes stopped him. He let the woman float softly to the floor, some distance from him and draped a black leather-clad leg over an arm of his massive throne.
Aphrodite looked around. The floor of Ares’ chambers was covered with passive mortal men and women, awaiting his pleasure. Some were chained to the wall, others tied on the floor, one male lay in a swoon, marks of flogging on his back and ass. “So many toys, dear Ares? One might think you were…difficult to satisfy,” she teased.
Ares clapped his hands once and every mortal in the large room sank back into the shadows. The room was empty. Then, slowly, a marble altar rose from the floor on the dais on which his throne perched. “Join me, Goddess,” he beckoned, his voice a satin caress.
Aphrodite approached slowly, breathing heavily. She felt the balance of power shift, knew she was offering more than a good hard tumble with a God. She was yielding control to the Master of domination. He sensed her tentativeness. Yes, he sent mentally. You are right to make this decision actively, wise Aphrodite. You know I desire you with a hunger I have rarely felt. You know I will offer you as much pleasure as I give. But I am no mortal to serve you, no lesser god to acquiesce to your whims, not even your divine equal. I am Ares, God of War and Your Master, and I will own you—and you will submit to my superior will—before you leave my chamber.
Now, ripe and luscious Goddess, come to me, freely, accept my power to take you where you have long hungered to go.
Aphrodite took one careful, small step forward onto the dais and sealed her fate…at least for this night. Ares’ smile stretched, and Aphrodite was lost. His beauty rivaled her own, and she watched his muscles ripple as he stood and reached a strong hand to guide her. As she placed her fingers in his, he pulled her swiftly to him, taking her breath away. Her back to his chest, he pressed his hips forward so she could feel the hard length of him between her barely covered cheeks. He held her, pinned to him with one strong arm. With his free hand, he moved her heavy, soft blonde hair from her neck and murmured words of appreciation for her heavenly desirability between soft kisses. He stopped, feeling her soften beneath the imprisonment of his arm, listening to her breath, fast and shallow. “Do you take me for your Master, then, Goddess?” he whispered.
“No one is Master of Aphrodite,” she replied, straightening her spine, then pushing against him. Ares gave a single bark of laughter and continued to hold her captive. He turned her easily to face him and brought one hand up to tangle in her hair. Pulling back, he exposed her swan-like neck and kissed her soft flesh greedily, from collarbone to chin, moaning warmly in his throat. Still holding her by the hair, he brought her lips to hers, bending down slightly—for she was deliciously tall—and tasted her. His tongue forced her lips apart, though her determination fled quickly as he kissed her with a passion that sang through her entire body. She met his aggressiveness, kissing him hard and deep and long.
Their tongues met and played, full lips crushed together, her groan urging him to deepen the meld ever further. In her mind, his voice was honey-soft, an immortal’s sensuous, irresistible embrace. Let me Master you, most adored Aphrodite. Speak the words I have longed to hear for so many centuries.
His need moved her, crushed her will and drove her on. She let her breath out with a sigh. For tonight, Ares, I am yours. When he did not reply, she added aloud, with a smile, “Tonight, Ares, you are my Master.”
His smile spread fast and wide. “So be it, sweet love,” he purred. “And the first thing your Master must teach you is obedience. On your knees.”
Aphrodite laughed gently, that delightful ringing of tiny bells that drove mortals wild. Ares was unmoved. He folded his arms across his chest and waited, still as granite. Her laugh faded away into the silence of the room along with her smile. “Surely you are not serious, Ares? You want the Goddess of Love to kneel before you? Never.”
“I see we cannot get to the first lesson without a little punishment. Very well, Aphrodite. You Master enjoys punishment as well as pleasure.” His smile did not falter as he raised his hand and drove her to her knees with the power of his mind. Rope flew from nowhere and fastened itself tightly around her forearms, jerked her arms back, then bound her slender wrists together behind her.
“Ares!” she shouted, “What—”
“Silence, Goddess. You are mine now, and I have not given you permission to speak. If you attempt to speak again when I have not requested it, you will be gagged.”
Aphrodite gasped, angry at Ares’ presumption and smugness, angry at her own foolishness in thinking having sex with this presumptuous and smug God was a wise idea. But she controlled herself and refrained from speaking. She had agreed to his Mastery this night; she would keep her word as a Goddess. Her honor and pride would remain in tact. She only hoped her body would fare as well.
“Very good, Goddess,” Ares nodded, stroking her soft tresses. She flinched at his touch, attempted to free her wrists from the knotted rope. He yanked hard on her hair, pulling her head back, and brought his icy gaze down to hers. His other hand held her jaw to keep her eyes on his. “Listen to me, little one. You will cease this struggling and give yourself to me, in obedience and humility, or you will face the treatment I reserve for my most insolent slaves.” His eyes bore into hers, and she saw the red-hot glow of the embers of Hades in their depths. “You would not like what I do to those who insist on disobeying me, Aphrodite.”
She shuddered but held his gaze.
He smiled, pleased at the inner strength he so admired in her. Eyes darkening to a passionate ocean blue, he added, “And you would miss all the fun I have in store for you.” He released her chin.
Aphrodite nodded, the barest hint of a grin on her sensuous mouth, a touch of pleasure in the translucent depths her light green eyes.
“Now, dearest Goddess, who am I?”
She took a deep breath. “My Master.”
“Good. And when I ask you who you are, you will reply, ‘I am Aphrodite, happy to be slave and whore for my Master, Ares, God of War and Domination.’ Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Aphrodite bit out through clenched teeth. With each level of acquiescence and obedience, the infernal egotist demanded yet another! She would not fail in this.
“Yes what, Goddess?”
“Yes…Master,” she replied, deliberately exaggerating the deference in her voice.
Ares laughed, haughtily. “I will overlook that insincere tone for now, Aphrodite. Soon you will be eager to say and do whatever I wish you to.” He cleared his throat. “Now. Who are you, Goddess?”
With the bravado of a High Immortal, she raised her chin and spoke, trying not to hesitate, using all the seductive vocal powers she possessed, powers that reduced mortals to simpering fools at her feet. She purred, “I…am Aphrodite…, happy to be…slave and…whore for my… Master, Ares, God of War and Domination.” She let her long lashes drift down, then looked up again. She passed her tongue across her upper lip, then smiled warmly.
“Oh yes, sweetmeat. Your Master is most pleased. And he wishes to use you now that you have begun show yourself worthy.”
At the word “use,” Aphrodite felt the oddest contradiction within her body. Her mind rebelled, wanted to laugh in his face, transform into mist and vanish before arrogant Ares’ startled eyes. But she also felt something else. A powerful rush of arousal. Deep, urgent arousal that spread from the pulsing core of her through her entire body. She tingled with it, moisture welled between her legs, and she felt Ares within her mind, gloating.
He growled softly at the pleasure he felt in her mind. You are more ripe than I thought, precious one. With no more than a passing thought, his clothes vanished from his body, all but for a black leather pouch holding his ample genitals and a thick, glittering golden band in the shape of a snake on his bicep. Aphrodite gaped, eyes wide in appreciation of his well-muscled frame: the satin smoothness of his massive chest, his rippling abdomen, his rock-solid legs, and the ripple of power in his arms as his hands came to hold her face again. One hand threaded through her hair, the other gently stroked her jaw as he brought her mouth to the cockhead that peeked from the top of the pouch he wore. “Use your teeth to free me, Goddess,” he commanded. She obeyed, gently tugging down the soft kidskin to unleash the hard column of his manhood. “Good,” he sighed. “Now, part your lips, push out that delectable tongue, and be still as I please myself with you.”
Aphrodite felt another soft rush of liquid that began to slide down her leg. Ares grinned, a wolf with his prey, as he watched the tiny rivulet glide down her soft pale flesh. The Goddess did as she was bid, unsure if she would be able to remain passive. She had plenty of experience with the oral gratification of men (and equal with women, truth be told), but it was always done at her whim, as a gift, a high honor from the Goddess of Love. She let the tip of her tongue part her lips and opened her mouth wide enough to take him in.
Ares laughed in her mind. Thinking of women when you have my tower before you? He flexed his muscles and his cock jumped, hardened and lengthened further still. Disloyal Goddess. And he plunged deeply into her mouth, tugging on her hair and guiding her to the right angle with the hand beneath her chin. He filled her mouth, then her throat, and she enjoyed the hot solidity of him, downy smooth over unyielding marble. She did not gag, despite his catching her off-guard. And now she laughed, softly, and moaned into the length of him to show she had not lost control yet.
The God of War held his hips still and used his two-handed grip to take possession of her mouth, guiding deep strokes that made him dizzy with pleasure. Suck me, he commanded as he pulled out to let her pleasure his swollen head. He murmured yes, yes, yes in Aphrodite’s mind as he began to fuck her blissfully soft, wet mouth. Her tongue swirled across his shaft as she sucked and swallowed his length over and over again.
Looking up to see his pleasure, she noticed the gold armband he wore begin to uncoil itself and move down his arm. From bicep to forearm to wrist, it slithered to life. A little more than half the thickness of his huge cock, the shimmering snake slipped from Ares’ hand at her jaw down to Aphrodite’s ample breasts beneath her sheer gown. It wound around one breast, then the other, swirling and tantalizing her with its cool liquid-metal touch. “Keep your mind on service, Goddess,” Ares snapped in a husky voice, looking down at her, then simply willed her clothes from her body. She returned her mind to the task at hand and enjoyed the lazy circle-eights of the snake on her full round breasts. Ares’ cock swelled still further in her mouth, and she wished she could reach a hand up to cup the heavy weight of his balls, to press a finger to his nether entrance. He would shatter right then. She felt the snake move to coil around her left breast as Ares rocked his hips into her mouth as he reached for his release.
Without warning, Aphrodite felt a sharp sting in her left nipple. The golden snake bit and held. You will not have your hands free yet, Goddess, and do not think of controlling my pleasure. Just obey, and delight in your servitude. The snake gripped tight as Ares plundered her sweet mouth with increasing intensity. Then, as she aggressively met his thrusts and throated him to the hilt, lips pressing to the shaven flesh of his body, the snake just as quickly released her tortured nipple and slithered magically down her smooth belly to slip between her legs, sliding over her pulsing clitoris, her lips, her wet entrance, and up between her perfect cheeks. Aphrodite moaned.
Ah, you like that, do you, my tender Goddess? The snake made its long pass again, more slowly, and she could feel the brush of each rounded golden scale flicking her moist, sensitive skin in those most delightful, intimate places. She continued to nurture Ares’ hungry cock with until she knew he could take little more before he burst and unleashed his molten offering.
The images in her mind fueled Ares’ urgent thrusting. He looked down at his Goddess, bliss spreading throughout his body, tension building as his hard muscles tightened and he relinquished his grip on his precious tormentor’s hair and jaw so he would not injure her as he reached for a climax the depth of which he had not felt in many a decade. Aphrodite felt him begin to peak as he fed from her mind as well as her mouth. Though the snake’s lazy circles around her labia were making her head swim, she devoted herself to loving his cock, bestowing her divine grace on the ache for release deep inside him. And she brought images to her mind to tease and delight him: her mouth on another warm body—writhing and twisting in a sensuous embrace with one of the three Graces. She remembered the nimble fingers probing her, the tongue flicking across her clitoris as she drank the nectar from the soaken folds before her lips.
In a flash, Ares shattered, hot lava pouring into her mouth and down her throat. At the same moment, she cried out in her mind as the snake whipped around and thrust inside her: head deep into her pussy, tail slickly into her ass. Ares withdrew from her mouth to watch his cum coat her lips, run thickly down her chin onto her breasts. He roared with exultation at his delivery, let the orgasm rock his mighty body as she watched, spellbound, the snake dancing within her swollen depths. She gasped as Ares pressed her to service once more, to clean his still-hard cock with her tongue. Then, gently, he kneeled before her and lapped at the rich droplets that decorated her chin, neck, and breasts. His tongue was thick, warm, wet, soothing.
As she gave in to the bliss of his heated laving, the snake began to ride her, front and back, with a slow, steady rhythm. She was entranced; she swayed with it. She barely felt it as the bonds on her wrists vanished in an instant, as Ares lifted her in arms that rippled with muscle. He pressed on her back to make her back arch and her head fall back, hair tumbling. Then he bent his mouth to feed, sucking on the tender pink buds of her hardening nipples, dragging his tongue across their peaks, kissing the creamy flesh open to his caresses, nipping and biting as he pleased. The snake continued to ride her as he carefully lay her on the warm marble altar. He watched her for a moment, enjoyed her gentle writhing as the snake pleasured her at his command, listened to her heavy breathing, her soft moans of pleasure. He pressed a passionate kiss on her parted lips, delved in to sample that moist warmth with his skilled tongue. Standing again and enjoying the sight of her aroused, pliant body, he could not resist dipping down to taste the honey that glistened as the snake drew it out for him. He dragged his tongue up her slit, then slowly between her inner lips and over the hard nub her clitoris. She moaned deeper, arched into his mouth. He licked once more then withdrew. He wanted to dive in and devour her, but that was for later, when she had fully earned it.
“Open your eyes and look at me, Aphrodite,” he ordered. Her lids fluttered open and he could see the richness of her arousal in their sea-green depths. “Keep them open while I make you mine.”
The snake slipped from her depths, and Aphrodite mourned the loss. She spread her legs wantonly, in hopes of its return or that of Ares’ silken tongue. Ares smiled. How much he was going to enjoy this. His cock was hard and throbbing again, and with a blink, he clothed himself fully in black kidskin to assist him in maintaining control. He did not want to plumb the depths of that sopping pussy until he had roused her from passive acceptance of his will to utter submission. She would beg for his cock before she received it.
From the shadows, five of Ares’ willing slaves moved toward the dais. All were naked, beautiful specimens of humanity at its finest. Young, taut, sensual, and obedient—just as he liked them. His mind control was absolute, and they were only too happy to do his bidding even without it. As they approached, the golden snake divided itself into four long, thin bands, and slithered down each of Aphrodite’s sensitive limbs. Coiling around wrists and ankles, the twining serpents held her fast, then froze, welded magically to the marble altar. Aphrodite writhed a moment in their grasp, testing her bonds. Yield, Goddess. Yield to your Master, Ares sent, an edge of cruelty to his mouth as he held her gaze.
The mortals came to stand around her on all sides of the altar. Aphrodite’s eyes grew wide, taking in the five lithe young bodies, three men and two women. One man bent before her and bit into her right shoulder, teeth clamping her soft flesh. She gasped, closed her eyes. “Open them,” Ares snapped, a woman sank her teeth into the warmth of her thigh. The pain was sharp, harsh, unwelcome. She wrestled mentally to control herself, to do as Ares’ demanded and surrender. She kept her eyes open and focused on his. There was so much pleasure in his eyes, and she worked to embrace it, to see herself as bestowing that pleasure through her willing sacrifice. A third set of teeth found her calf as a fourth bit in to pin her left forearm. She cried out sharply. Ares’ smile widened; she felt in his mind the decision to gag her. She fell silent again, all patience and self-control, but it was too late. The fifth mortal, a small, dark woman, moved from her side to stand above and behind her. She pressed a soft palm firmly over Aphrodite’s mouth and the other hard over her forehead to hold her down. She was bound by the living flesh of Ares’ slaves.
“Ah, very nice. Now, let us test whether you are truly ready. Bayo,” Ares said to the mortal at Aphrodite’s head, “be sure that the Goddess can at all times see me clearly.”
“Yes, my Lord Master,” replied the petite woman in an obedient yet aroused voice. Looking around her, Aphrodite noticed that all of Ares’ minions had a heated, sexual flush to their cheeks as they gazed out of the corner of their eyes at the mighty God who stood at her feet. Though she did not like being gagged, she noticed that the pain she felt grew less sharp, becoming more of a steady ache that pulsed in her four limbs at the same steady beat as her heart and between her legs.
“Yes, beloved Goddess and slave, I too feel that sweet pulsing at your core. Our hearts beat as one, our desire drives us.” Aphrodite struggled a moment, wanting Ares to take back his obscene use of the word “slave” to describe her. The teeth bit in harder; the hand did not loose her mouth. As she attempted to send her angry retort mentally, she found the pathway blocked. The slaves suddenly pushed her onto her side, though her ankle remained cuffed in place. Ares large open hand came down hard on her bare backside with a loud crack. Aphrodite winced, attempted to pierce Ares’ mental block. His hand came down again, harder. Her ass stung and she felt the reverberations throughout her body. Submit, slave. Submit to your Master.
Aphrodite fumed, raged: This is the pleasure you offer me, violent and ignoble God? she thought at him, despite the block.
He laughed, full and loud. Aphrodite felt shamed. His mortals did not share in his mirth, and for this, at least, she was glad. He bent to lick the reddening welt on her supple cheek with a warm, wide tongue. Then, he sat beside her on the dais and stroked her hair, though he did not let the woman called Bayo release her mouth or head from her tight grasp. Foolish Goddess. How is it that my mortal toys are wiser than you at this moment? You have not earned your pleasure yet. When your body and mind are entirely mine, I will offer you gifts of rapture that no other can. He stood again, looking every inch the unrivaled warrior. His hand came up again as she was held twisted on her side. She shut her eyes tight. There was no slap. “Look at me and accept the punishment you have earned for your resistance to my will,” Ares said quietly, full of power, menace, and a deep sexual magnetism that was his very essence.
She took a deep breath, opened her eyes and held his gaze, a burning fire in their depths. She wanted the pleasure he offered, badly. She would endure his tests and this pain to reach that pleasure. He smiled, raised his hand higher, and slapped her ripe ass once, twice, three times. Aphrodite kept her eyes on his, holding her breath and forcing herself to be entirely still, to withstand. And…she had to admit to herself as she exhaled deeply…an awakening. There was a battle for control going on here, but they both wanted her to win it. There was aggression, but, even more, there was arousal, hunger, need. His as well as hers. His eyes were aglow with that need; she could see that now. The overt power was his, but there was power, too, in her ability to heat his blood, to move and inspire him. They were both panting with it.
At a nod, Bayo removed her hand from Aphrodite’s mouth. “Speak to me, Goddess,” Ares said, breathing hard—though not from exertion. “Tell me what I need to hear.”
In a voice breathless with desire, without hesitation, she spoke: “I am Aphrodite, happy to be slave and whore for my Master, Ares, God of War and Domination.”
The mortals vanished in the blink of an eye. No teeth sank into her soft flesh. No moist hand covered her mouth, held her head. The snakes held her ankles and wrists still. She enjoyed being displayed thus for the one who would now give her pleasure beyond imagining, for him and only him. Tonight.
Ares moved around the altar, kissing, licking, caressing the bite marks on her body. Making the indentations and the pain vanish with each luxurious, immortal touch. You are so perfect, dear Aphrodite; nothing should mar your alabaster flesh. He pushed her gently onto her side again and lapped at the swollen handprints with his healing tongue. Aphrodite sighed, relaxed as much as was possible within the restraints, gave herself over to his ministrations. Mmmm, yes, purr for me, glowing Goddess of Love. Share your pleasure with your Master. He lay her onto her back again and moved a hand between her leg. She looked down at him there, felt him begin to stroke the petals of her sex, to open her wide and delight in her sweetness. She moaned softly as the remaining pain vanished from her body, as drowsy pleasure took her over at his masterful touch.
He inserted a finger into her slick heat, felt her envelop him in her soft wetness, and pressed a palm to her clitoris. He inhaled deeply of her rich, golden scent. Ride my hand, Aphrodite. Show me what you need. She obeyed, arching softly into his palm to feel her clit swell and his finger reach deep inside her. He stood, patiently, beside her, watching her give herself up to his touch. He inserted a second finger and watched her grind into it, her eyes open but clouding, her mind drifting until all he could sense when he read her was the world of his hand on and in her most sensitive flesh. He rode with her, his mind to hers, cock aching with the desire to take her with more than his fingers. He climbed onto the altar and gave her his mouth.
“Ohhhh, yes,” Aphrodite moaned, raising her hips to press him in deeper. He sucked her inner labia and clit into his mouth as his fingers drove into her, building in rhythm and heat. “Take me, Ares,” she gasped as her clit hardened and her body neared climax more quickly than she would have though possible. Ares grinned with satisfaction at the thought in her mind, at the molten heat of her body. She was going up in flames and taking him with her.
Let go for me, Goddess, Ares sent, delving deep into her body and mind, mouth devouring and driving her upwards into the heavens. Take the release you need as I offer it; let me feed on your ecstasy. At these words, Aphrodite shattered around him, shards of crystal flew and turned liquid in her mind. She flew free from her body despite the shackles. Her body shook with the power of the climax, and Ares removed his fingers and held his mouth to her core as she sprayed her liquid silk onto his face, coating his lips, tongue, and chin with honeyed essence. Ares dipped his wet face to her and lapped at her, greedily consuming every drop. He felt her aftershocks, tiny muscles gripping his tongue. Each grasp sent a wave of need through him, his cock echoing in its own small pulses.
Raising his face, glistening and alight with desire, he spoke quietly, breathing hard: “I want you now, Aphrodite, as I have wanted little else in more mortal years than I can count. Give yourself to me, and rejoice with me in your offering.” The snakes slithered softly from her ankles and wrists and he spoke, and he helped her to sit up. Slightly dizzy, sated and still deeply in need, Aphrodite sat beside the God who had brought her much pain and pleasure this night.
“I can do no other than obey, dear Master,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. She watched his cock twitch at her words, a bead of pre-cum leaking from him. She caught it with a finger and raised it to her full lips. Before she could remove her finger from her mouth, Ares was kissing her, hard, with a deep, sweet ache that she met with her own. He twined his powerful arms around her and held her to him, pinning her to his chest and ravaging her mouth as she arched into him and gave herself over to his fiery need. She felt him subtly shift her body, maneuver her onto all fours as he kissed her neck, shoulder, drew his tongue down her supple spine. He parted her cheeks and let his tongue lap at the tiny hole. She moaned for him and arched into his mouth.
He kneeled behind her, fingered her sweet pussy a moment with a thumb, then removed his wet digit and pressed it to her anus. He brought his straining cock to her moist, swollen entrance. “I’m going to fill you now, beloved Aphrodite, as no man, woman, or God ever has before.” He edged forward a bit, holding a hip tightly with one hand, letting the tip of his cock disappear into her precious folds. She whimpered. He pressed his thumb into her ass. She moaned louder. He rocked his hips back, removed his finger, and she felt bereft. He enjoyed a heady rush of power and urgent need. She moaned for his return. He leaned forward and blew softly on her, cold air tingled and shocked her. “Are you ready for me, slave?” he taunted.
“Please,” she begged, her voice a mere whisper.
“Please what?” he asked, holding onto his control by a thread more slender than he would liked to have admitted. He kept the mental block strong to withhold that information from his Goddess.
“Please…fuck me, Master.”
He groaned as he drove his cock into her tight cunt with a powerful thrust, hilting himself deep inside her as his thumb plunged again into her ass. She cried out in pleasure, as did he. He held her there, moving only this thumb, feeling his cock inside her through the thin membrane. Exulting in the pleasure of being, at last, enveloped by his Goddess. Then he began to fuck her in earnest. He rode her hard and fast, strokes deep then shallow, keeping her off-guard and moaning, then growling for him in desperate need. He followed the trail of her mind to learn what gave her the most pleasure, then offered and withdrew that pleasure at whim. He held an iron grip on his control. His body raged for release, but he would not permit it. He pumped into his Goddess, filled and urged her on, up and up. He wanted to feel her climax around him before he let himself be driven over the edge.
Growling with his heightened passion, he kept up his grueling pace while he mentally summoned his golden snake back to circle her clit. It teased her deliciously, and he felt her build for another explosion. “That’s it,” he encouraged aloud. “Come to me, sweet immortal plaything, reach for me, bring me over…” he murmured, trailing off as she took his breath away by clamping down on his cock with her exquisite Goddess’s pussy. He matched her skills by changing the texture of his cock and angling it a bit to rub her g-spot with every stroke. Her keening cry made his body tighten, his muscles lock. “Milk me, Aphrodite, swallow me into the heart of your need…”
And she was breaking, fragmenting, streaming out in all directions. Juice flowed from her around his cock, ran down her legs, dripped over the altar, soaked his cock, balls, and thighs, but did not loosen her grip on his throbbing cock. He swelled, peaked, and rode the crest as long as he could until, with a groan from the depths of his immortal soul, he thrust fully inside her, and relinquished control, exploding into the depths of her, soaring beyond body and mind, ecstasy filling and surrounding him in bursts of color and light.
When their bodies calmed, he removed his thumb and cock from her quivering body—he was shaking a bit, too, though he was loathe to admit it—and they sat together on the dais. They smiled into each other’s eyes as they let their breaths return to normal. “Oh, that was good,” Aphrodite enthused. “You are indeed skilled, mighty Ares. I thank you for the education in obedience and for the rewards thereof.”
“It has been my pleasure, bountiful Aphrodite, to provide your first lesson and share in the spoils.”
“First lesson?” she laughed. “No, dear Ares—sweet and arrogant Master—there will be no second lesson.” She rubbed her slightly sore hindquarters. “I will not easily put myself in that position again.” She smiled up at him, kissed him softly on the cheek. “But now, I feel another supplicant has arrived at my shrine in Amphipolis. I must take my leave of you.” With the lithesome grace no other Goddess or mortal could match, Aphrodite rose, magically tidied and redressed herself in sheer white gauze gown and golden braid, and vanished from Ares’ chambers.
He smiled to himself as he watched her disappear. Little minx, he sent. You will be back. He felt her warm, open smile. And I will be waiting for you.