The God of War paced around his temple, fuming. It had been months since Xena and his goody-two-shoes half-brother had humiliated him, but Ares could be very patient in holding a grudge. If he was going to get revenge, he was going to do it right, and this required careful planning. And he was going to do it right.
His glance idly slipped to the naked warrior, sleeping spent on the floor, his young body already adorned with the badges of battles fought in Ares' name. He had been amusing himself with this one, as he did with so many others, but the release of tension was only temporary. He had worn this one out, fucking first his mouth and then his ass, then casually, offhandedly, stroking him to orgasm because, after all, the boy had tried hard to please his god, and he was attractive, his battle scars so pleasingly defined against his skin. But now the boy was asleep, and the God of War's mind had returned, obsessively, to the same track, one that carved deeper ruts with every circuit around his mind.
He smiled to himself. Yes, Hercules and Xena deserved to be punished, but he had learned a lot during Xena's recovery from her captivity by Callisto. The most important piece of information was just how deeply, ineradicably in love his pathetic half-brother still was with the warrior princess, despite his relationship with his blond boy-toy, Iolaus. The other thing he had learned was how deep Xena's commitment was to doing good. Ares finally had to admit, reluctantly and with no small degree of disgust, that her essential goodness had been a part of her all along, buried deep inside, and she'd been unfortunate enough to meet mentors who drew it out--and Hercules would have to pay for that as well. He knew that if his plan for revenge was going to work, he had to appeal to her integrity as well as her dark side. But he was forming a strategy to deal with that obstacle as well. He laughed to himself. If he pulled this off, it was going to be very, very satisfying. And he was going to pull it off.
Meanwhile, he decided to check on the objects of his contemplations, adding fuel to the fire of his desire for revenge. Removing his attention from the displays of weapons that bristled around his temple and from the sleeping warrior, he called up a window with which he could view events at a distance . . .
* * *
Xena and Gabrielle were indulging themselves with a night in a nice room in an inn. A tasty dinner, some wine, and a hot bath had inflamed them both, and they were determined to make the most of the comfort of their surroundings. Gabrielle had seen more and more of Xena's playfulness and lust return over the months. She was no longer adverse to pinning Gabrielle's hands down while she explored the bard's body, or tying her up while she teased her lover relentlessly, bringing her close to orgasm and backing off again and again, until Gabrielle was nearly mad with lust and frustration. Gabrielle craved nothing so much as having Xena's entire hand inside her, rocking and pumping her into an explosive climax. Xena, for her part, marvelled at the greediness of her young lover, determined to give her bard everything she wanted or needed.
Gabrielle had been the soul of patience during her recovery. Xena knew she'd been frustrated when she seemed better, but then spiralled down again into an abyss of terror and despair. Her second encounter with Callisto had relieved her of her soul-wrenching fear of the blonde goddess, but had sent her into spasms of guilt and self-loathing about her warlord past. But a series of opportunities to do good, and Gabrielle's patient loyalty and reassurance had eventually pushed Xena's self-flagellation back to its usual background level. It was a continuous stream coursing through her mind, pushing her to do good and disallowing her self-forgiveness, but it was no longer the raging river that drowned out any other thoughts. She could laugh again now and play, and her own lust for her insatiable lover flamed up anew.
Sometimes they ran across Hercules and Iolaus, the two of them more harmoniously comfortable together than any time since Hercules' misguided and tragic marriage to Serena. Xena would smile to see how proudly Hercules showed off his ownership of the golden-haired hunter, noting that he reassured Iolaus at the same time with his gestures of possession. The four of them would share a meal, and Hercules would lightly rest his hand on the back of his lover's neck, and Iolaus would inevitably shudder with pleasure. Xena couldn't deny that Hercules still looked at her with an unfulfilled longing, and she certainly felt a measure of desire for him, but they both knew it was just going to have to stay unfulfilled. Life was pretty good right now, and you can't have everything.
So Xena mused as she soaped her strawberry blonde bard in the tub, pausing for a swig of wine now and then. Her hands glided over taut muscles and lush curves, moving from Gabrielle's back to her abdomen, to her thighs, then up to her breasts. Gabrielle was squirming and the wine was only stoking her inner fires. "Be. Patient," said Xena, firmly, but with an undertone of amusement in her rich voice. "I like to make you wait. Got it?"
"Yes," muttered Gabrielle, as Xena's words shot a bolt of desire into her groin. It was delicious to surrender to the warrior's control, and the frustration made it all the more piquant, but some part of her still rebelled and wanted to assert itself. When they got out of the tub, the rebellious side took over, and she gave in to an irresistable urge to pinch the warrior's rear end, rather hard.
Xena whirled, her blue eyes blazing. "Oops," giggled the bard.
"Oops, indeed!" snapped the warrior, fighting to keep a grin from breaking out on her face. "You'll have to be punished for that. Of course, since you obviously want to be punished, maybe the perfect punishment would be not to punish you."
Gabrielle stood, naked, her hands on her hips and said defiantly, "Well, then, Xena, you're saying I can keep pinching you and get away with it. I'd suggest you watch your back."
"I'd rather watch yours," purred the warrior menacingly, suddenly scooping the bard up in her arms. She sat down on the bed, flipped Gabrielle over on her lap, grabbed Gabrielle's wrists with her left hand, holding them at the small of her back, and smacked her legs apart with the right.
"Xe-na!" squealed Gabrielle in surprise.
"So this isn't what you want?" asked Xena casually, lightly stroking the firm buttocks of the squirming bard flung over her lap. A finger experimentally slipped inside Gabrielle, and Xena noted, "This certainly seems to be what you want. That isn't bath water in there."
Gabrielle growled and squirmed harder, as Xena lightly stroked between her lips, drawing out more of her dewy secretions. "You're going to have to tell me you want it; you know that, Gabrielle," said Xena.
Xena was always scrupulous in securing Gabrielle's consent when they played; even slightly intoxicated, she kept a leash on her dark passions. She knew Gabrielle craved the games they played together, but Xena did not want to violate her lover's trust or go one step beyond pleasure into anything that would cause Gabrielle real pain or terror or humiliation. She knew how those felt, and she would lacerate her own flesh before she inflicted such on Gabrielle.
"I want it, Xena, please," begged Gabrielle, embarrassed, yet trusting, and fully aware of her lover's scruples.
"I can arrange that." The darkly smooth voice of the warrior flowed over the helpless bard, and Gabrielle felt more moisture seep from between her lips.
She drew in her breath sharply with a gasped, "Oh, yes!" when Xena's hand first came down on her needy buttocks. She raised herself up to meet the descending smacks, which made her bottom tingle and flush warm. Gabrielle sighed happily, secure in the feeling of safety and trust that rushed over her. She offered herself to her warrior, body and soul, again and again, and each time she was thrilled that Xena accepted the gift. And Xena felt awed and humbled by such trust, and her desire to keep it motivated and inspired her every day.
Xena was happily admiring the wriggling body sprawled over her lap, while she delivered measured spanks to the bard's firm buttocks. Gabrielle was in perfect condition, but Xena effortlessly held her down and smiled as she monitored the way Gabrielle's squeaks and yelps of pretend protest began to transmute themselves into ragged and shuddering breaths. Once the warrior was satisfied that her victim's cheeks were nicely warmed, she again slipped her fingers between Gabrielle's legs. "You did like that," the warrior remarked.
"Uh-huh!" gasped Gabrielle. "I like what you're doing now, too!"
"Really?" asked Xena, raising her eyebrows slightly, as her fingers deliberately probed and explored her lover's center.
Gabrielle was too aroused to mind being teased, and the teasing only made her whole body flush even hotter. It was indescribably enticing to be in the control of someone as powerful as Xena, someone she could trust not to abuse that power. She knew that Xena could readily do whatever she wanted with Gabrielle, but she also knew that Xena's first priority was her pleasure and safety. And Xena truly did have many skills. Gabrielle began to pant, as Xena formed three fingers into a wedge and began slowly sliding them in and out of the receptive bard.
"Oh harder, please!" begged Gabrielle.
"Didn't I say something earlier about being patient?" returned the warrior. Xena released Gabrielle's wrists, so she could gather a breast into her free hand and toy with it. Now Gabrielle had to contend with a finger circling her nipple, seeming to harden it further on each pass, as well as Xena's fingers entering her and slipping out at a maddeningly deliberate pace. Gabrielle was now groaning with frustration, but when Xena neatly tucked her thumb into her anus, Gabrielle emitted a sudden squeak. It was a sound the warrior adored, and she laughed appreciatively. Figuring that her lover would soon be just about overwhelmed with stimulation, she squeezed and released the breast she held captive in an increasingly faster tempo, while speeding up her penetrating strokes inside Gabrielle accordingly.
"Ohyeahohyeahohyeah!" exclaimed the bard inarticulately, as Xena brought her to a convulsive climax.
Xena pulled her up into a sitting position on her lap, kissing her repeatedly and murmuring, "How I love you, Gabrielle. I don't know what I did to be so lucky, but I hope I keep doing it."
Sated and limp, Gabrielle returned, breathlessly, "Right now, Xena, I feel like the lucky one."
* * *
"That was very entertaining," muttered the god of war, "but couldn't you lose the sappy endearments? Yecch! Good thing I won't have to put up with that much longer."
Next he turned his attention to the other object of his plans . . .
* * *
Hercules and Iolaus were camping out, on their way back home from stopping a small war that Ares had had an interest in. Hercules was contemplating his lover's golden hair and skin by firelight. Iolaus grew embarassed under the demigod's hungry scrutiny (unaware, of course, that there was another watcher), and grinned self-deprecatingly and looked away.
"Look at me," ordered Hercules calmly. Iolaus looked back at him and squirmed slightly. Even after all their time together, first as friends and then as lovers, the demigod's possessive gaze still aroused and embarrassed him. Admiring the play of firelight on Iolaus' body, Hercules had an idea. "I want you naked; I want to see all of you."
"Herc?" asked Iolaus.
Iolaus pulled off his boots, then nimbly leapt to his feet to pull off the rest of his clothes. Hercules was lying on his side, one arm supporting his head, and he showed no signs of undressing as well. "Now come here," he ordered. He grabbed Iolaus' wrist and pulled him down onto his knees. He grasped a handful of golden hair and pulled Iolaus' head toward his mouth, staking a claim to it with easy confidence. Iolaus moaned as Hercules' tongue invaded his mouth, while a finger and thumb simultaneously began tugging at his nipple.
"Tell me," demanded the demigod, breaking the kiss and repositioning Iolaus with one hand, so he was sitting back on his heels, knees wide.
"I'm y-yours," stammered the blond, fully aroused and already aching with need.
"And this?" asked Hercules, wrapping a possessive hand around Iolaus' cock.
"It's yours. All of me is yours, Herc."
"That's right. Now, I've had a long day, and I want to be entertained. I want to watch you pleasure yourself. Perform for me."
"What?" asked Iolaus.
Hercules smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement in the firelight. "You heard me. Over there--where I can see all of you." Iolaus, stunned, moved automatically where directed. Hercules fished in a nearby pack, pulled out a vial, and tossed it to his companion.
Iolaus' reflexes were independent of his conscious mind, and he automatically caught the vial, while his thoughts raced and tumbled in confusion. On the one hand, he was surprised this had never been asked of him before. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he could do something so private in front of an audience, even if that audience was Hercules.
Very quietly, Hercules said, "Tell me what you're thinking, Iolaus."
"You want to know what I'm thinking?" Iolaus blurted in surprise. "Since when?"
Suddenly he found himself being dragged by the ankle and flipped over. Two hard smacks landed on his buttocks, and he was released. "I told you to tell me what you're thinking, not to talk back."
Iolaus' erect member throbbed at these words and at their calm delivery. Hercules mastered him in his own quiet way, never raising his voice, but reinforcing his position periodically with a brief, but convincing, display of his strength. Iolaus loved it. Something in him yearned to be used and owned and appreciated in only the way an owner cherished a prized possession, which was one reason Xena had had her way with him so easily. He hadn't even realized at the time how much he had been inwardly hoping Hercules would claim him as more than a friend. He had been initially struck by Xena's beauty, but watching her fight had pushed him over the edge. This was someone who had a strong hand, and he was overwhelmed with realizing how much he had craved being subject to such strength.
But that was all past and forgiven, if not forgotten. Right now, he was in the humiliating position of having to talk about his feelings about Hercules' demand that he perform for him. "I dunno, Herc. It's scary, I guess. I've never let anyone watch me do that before. I . . . uh . . . well . . . it makes me kind of squirm when you look at me. And doing that . . . "
"Good," said Hercules decisively. "I'm going to like that. Now go ahead and remember you're doing this for me."
"Yes, Herc," murmured Iolaus. He lay on his back and reached for the vial of oil, then started, as a strong hand pulled his legs wide apart.
"Wait," said Hercules, getting up to roll up a blanket and pillow it under Iolaus' head. "I want to see your face too."
Iolaus flushed, and his hand shook as he coated himself with oil. He realized that being manhandled in Hercules' usual effortless and impersonal manner actually allowed him to distance himself from what was going on. He was vulnerable, but matters were, he convinced himself, out of his control. Now he felt exposed in a whole new way.
Hercules had returned to his reclining position, settling himself in an exaggeratedly comfortable manner. "Eyes open," he said abruptly. "If this were easy for you, what would be the point of it?"
Iolaus opened his eyes and looked into the smiling face of his lover. He took a deep breath, then circled his shaft with his hand and began sliding it slowly up and down. He groaned and automatically closed his eyes, but remembered and popped them open again. "Take your time," said Hercules smoothly. "I'm enjoying this."
Surprisingly, Iolaus found that he was enjoying it too. He came to a sudden decision to flaunt his status as prized possession. He stroked his cock with slow, smooth motions, letting his whole body writhe in response to his increasing arousal. If the big man wanted a show, then that's what he was going to get. His other hand moved to his chest, rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger. Hercules smiled and nodded approvingly. Iolaus gathered some of the fluid seeping from the opening onto his thumb, and stroked the head of his cock in hard circles before grasping the shaft again tightly and returning to moving his whole hand up and down. His mouth was slightly parted as his breathing became more rapid, the pressure of his own fingers on his nipple grew harder, and his hips pumped into his own hand. The sheen of sweat on his body enhanced the gleam of firelight on his skin, and Hercules reflected that this had to be one of the most amazing and beautiful spectacles he had ever witnessed.
"I'm close!" gasped Iolaus, instinctively knowing he should ask permission to come.
"Go ahead," said Hercules generously. Iolaus stroked and pumped faster and harder, and his body convulsed as he spurted a fountain of semen.
His chest was heaving with his ragged breaths, and his entire body had gone limp and fluid on him. He noticed Hercules standing up, pulling off his own clothes. He reached out his hand, and, understanding the signal, Iolaus tossed him the vial of oil. While Hercules quickly anointed his own erection, Iolaus grinned and panted, "So, was it good for you?"
"Yeah, it was," answered the demigod with a conspiratorial smile, and his characteristic easy shrug. "And this is gonna be good for me too." He easily picked up the smaller man, and slowly and carefully impaled him on his own eager cock, while Iolaus wrapped his legs around his back and grasped his strong shoulders. "Oh. Yeah. I. Like. That," said Hercules, backing up carefully and bracing himself against a nearby tree. His large hands encircled and supported his lover's waist, and he began lifting Iolaus up slowly and pushing him back down on his erect member.
"Gods . . . " gasped Iolaus. "You're so deep inside me." Hercules was showing off, of course, but it was a gift to Iolaus, who never ceased to be enticed by displays of his lover's superhuman strength. Watching Hercules fight still drove him wild with desire; sometimes he would drag the demigod to the nearest private place afterward, begging, "Please, Herc, fuck me now!"
Hercules grimaced with the exertion, his teeth bared. He tightened his grip on Iolaus and began driving into his delicious burden. Iolaus moaned happily, as he could almost feel the bruises forming where Hercules' fingers dug into him. The demigod came with a ferocious growl, shooting liquid lightning into his lover's body. He carefully disengaged himself and swung Iolaus around into his arms and pulled him up for a long, breathless kiss. He thought of Iolaus stroking himself to completion, writhing and rocking and exposing himself entirely to his demanding lover. Hercules murmured in his ear, "Thank you for sharing your self with me. You're beautiful. I love you."
"I love you, too, Herc," Iolaus responded contentedly.
* * *
Can't you people engage in a good fuck without all the love talk? the god of war thought to himself irritably. Still, he was in a remarkably good mood. He had enjoyed Iolaus' performance immensely, and it had given him an idea, another dimension to add to his plan. It would require a little more tweaking here and there, but it would be worth it for the pain it would cause his half-brother and the pleasure it would give himself.
He was coming
to realize that he was going to need some help, and he knew exactly
to get it. Asking his mother for help wasn't usually his style,
trying to pull off something this big required that his pride make some
concessions. And he knew the queen of the gods would delight in
opportunity to render her stepson invisible and unimportant, and she
held a grudge against Xena for her role in helping to free
Having Hera to run some intervention with Zeus would help too.
chuckled to himself and flashed out of his temple to arrive at Olympus.
to Chapter 2
to Table of
to XWP and