Kinktober 2023

Hello my beautiful readers,

I'm once again attempting 31 Kinktober shorts. This time, I'm combining the list from our Discord server with this year's ClassicsTober prompts for an extra challenge. Let me know which prompt you are looking forward to the most ❤

None of these shorts are edited. I die like Zagreus.

• Day 1 Monster Fucking: Kassandra
• Day 2 Femdom: Medusa
• Day 3 Baths, Shower and Water Sex: Asterion (Minotauros)
• Day 5 Public Performance: Chiron
• Day 6 Bratty Sub: Medea
• Day 8 Food Play: Ikaros
• Day 14 Sensory Deprivation: Helen of Sparta/Troy
• Day 17 Humiliation: Atalante
• Day 18 Love Magic: Phaedra
• Day 19 Pet Play: Sisyphos
• Day 23 Semi Public Sex in Hiding: Orpheus
• Day 24 Licking / Oral: Hephaistos

Day 1 Monster Fucking: Kassandra

Helenos and Kassandra are said to have acquired their prophetic power in like manner [to Melampos]. As children they were left overnight in a temple of Apollon, and in the morning serpents were found licking their ears.

Kassandra stirred in her sleep. They had been celebrating her and Helenos' birthday and both of them had been pretty drunk. Her eyes fluttered open to find she was not in her bed. No. She was still in the Temple of Apollon where they had been thanking the god for his protection. In the twilight she could see the wine jug Helenos and her had drained the night before. There were their cups too, one of them overturned. She reached for it, putting it back in order. Apollon disliked untidiness. Beside her, Helenos was still asleep. But he wasn't alone. A large snake was coiled by his head, its tongue darting out to wash his ears! Kassandra would have screamed, hadn't a snake wrapped around her head just in time.

"Don't ssssscream, Kassssssandra."

"Hm-hm-hm!!"

"We are not going to hurt you."

Kassandra tried to pull the snake from her head but it was too strong.

"Lisssten, we are here to give you and Helenosss the gift of Prophesssy."

Kassandra calmed down a little. Snakes were involved in prophecy. Before Apollon claimed Delphi, it had been occupied by a large snake by the name of Python. But what were these snakes up to? The scaly body loosened, allowing her to speak.

"Why? How? Uh..."

"Becaussse Lord Apollon willsss it. Asss for the how... we are cleaning you and your twin ssso you can ressseive divine messsages."

"Cleaning? How?"

"Making sssure that every entranssse is free. The eyesss. The earsss. The sssow."

Kassandra stared.

"You... you are going to clean my... my womanhood?"

"Yesss." A thick tail wrapped around her thigh. "Don't worry, Kasssandra. It will be enjoyable."

"Enjoyable?" How about horrifying?

"There isss pleasure to be had." The tip of the snake's tail touched her lower lips and Kassandra gasped. A split tongue flicked against her ear. Why could't she be like Helenos, still asleep? Whatever magic the snake tongue worked, though, she really did understand it better when it spoke again:

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. Um. I don't know if I want to be cleansed between my legs with a snake tongue."

"Then I have good news for you. I'm using my tail."

The snake entered her, warm and smooth. Kassandra felt the tip poke against her inner walls. She shrieked.

"Apologies, princess. I will adjust my movements."

And it did. To her chagrin Kassandra noticed that she was wet, making it slicker and easier for the snake to move. The tongue had cleaned out both her ears and was working on her eyes now, the tail moving in and out of her in a punishing rhythm. It was too much. Kassandra screamed, her eyes stinging, her cunt on fire with the friction. She felt something in her release, pleasure flooding her along with a new clarity. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Kassandra? Kassandra!"

Helenos' dark eyes met hers, filled with concern. They were both in the temple. Alone.

"I..."

Her cheeks were wet. So was her cunt. But the snakes... Did Apollon send her a message?

"Just a bad dream. Come on, let's go home."

Helenos gathered their things and together they made their way back to the palace of Troy.

FIN

Day 2 Femdom: Medusa

Medusa was on her way back to her sisters Stheno and Euryale when she heard the most celestial music. She followed the sound, she just had to see what creature was capable of such divine sounds. Surely not a god. Athena had thrown away her invention, the flute, because it made her cheeks puff up and this was most definitely neither Apollon's lyre nor Kybele's drums. She had almost reached the entrance to the cave where she and her sisters had their dwelling when her reptilian eyes caught sight of the instrument that made this wondrous music. It looked like a dried gourd with two reed pipes and a mouthpiece. But the curved hollow of the gourd caught her eyes in particular, making all her snake hair stand up. The hypnotic sound and the sensual movement of the instrument completely mesmerised her. An unearthly voice manifested in her head:

"What a good gorgon girl you are. That's right, keep those fatal eyes on the pungi. What a lovely dance your hair is showing me, truly heartwarming."

Her snakes were worked up, she could feel it, rising and hissing.

"Now, be a good pet and come here, come to Maitreyi."

Medusa let the basket of gathered food fall to the floor, following the command. Her eyes were still fixed on the gourd but someone reached out a hand and guided her towards them. Maitreyi. She settled between the player's thighs, kneeling at her feet.

"Well done. Now lick, gorgon girl. Give me your deadly kisses."

Medusa opened her mouth, her forked tongue flicking. She could taste this person in the air before her tongue even touched her. It was an unfamiliar scent, strange and exotic as the instrument. She licked along the thighs, soft and tangy.

"Such a good snake girl. Now come on, to the crotch. I know you can smell it."

Indeed she could. This charming musician must be a woman. To her surprise, Medusa encountered not the plump folds of a human female but a reptilian genital slit.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Lick me, gorgon, and I might just tell you."

Medusa's tongue slid through the slit, encountering two small horns of pleasure just like beneath her own scales. She tongued at them both, tasting the unique flavour of this creature that wasn't human any more than she was. A sigh came from the woman and the music stopped. But not the instruments hypnotic movements. Medusa put more pressure in her caress, adding two fingers, one for each of the caves that opened within the cloaca. A moan as beautiful as the music rang out, encouraging her to continue.

"Yes, yes, yes, go on, lick, lick, lick, don't stop, gorgon girl, don't stop..."

Medusa didn't stop. She knew how to please herself and this creature was so very similar to herself. The thighs quivered beside her, the body beneath her mouth squirmed, but Medusa continued, as if in a frenzy. The movements of the pungi became faster and faster until Medusa could hardly follow along. She was on the verge of breaking away when the creature's voice filled the cave with cries of pleasure. Then neither the music nor the motion kept her in its thrall. She saw before her a woman - no, not a woman. A creature with the torso of a woman and the lower body of a large snake, the pink genital slit still visible.

"You asked me who I am, gorgo," she said, her voice like the droning of the pungi. "I am Maitreyi, daughter of the Naga. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Medusa lowered her gaze as to not look into her eyes.

"Welcome, Maitreyi of the Naga. Why don't you come inside?"

FIN

Pungi: An Indian instrument used in snake charming

Naga: a divine, or semi-divine, race of half-human, half-serpent beings from Indian mythology that reside in the netherworld (Patala), and can occasionally take human or part-human form

Maitreyi: Named for an Indian philosopher who lived during the 8th century BCE in ancient India.

Day 3 Baths, Shower and Water Sex: Asterion (Minotauros)

Asterion made his way through the labyrinth he knew like the back of his hand by now. There was one place where his father had been kind enough to build a water basin. It was nothing like bathing in a lake or river or the sea like he had done when he was little. But then he was locked away in the labyrinth and squashed all hopes of ever seeing the sea again. He filled his human hands with the water and cleaned his bovine face. In the dim light of the torches, he could see his countenance reflected. A bull's head on the hairy shoulders of a man. But there was something else in the reflection. When he looked up, a young man stood on the other side of the basin, smiling at him from the darkness. He could not be one of the Athenian youths. It was too soon for them to release new ones.

"Who are you?" Asterion asked, his voice gruff.

"I am the Healer of Sorrow, bull-horned Dionysos."

"Are you a god?" Asterion asked with suspicion. Nobody but those who were sent here would be able to enter his labyrinth, he was sure of it. Nobody but a god.

"I am!" the god exclaimed. "King Zeus is my father."

None of the gods had ever answered any of Asterion's pleads and prayers. He had begun to suspect they were not listening to bull-headed mortals.

"I have been visiting your sister Ariadne and she told me the most gruesome story of your existence, so I came here to see for myself.

Asterion snorted.

"To see the beast with your own eyes?"

"In a way. But you will find..." Between the lush dark hair two bull horns emerged, growing to full size. "...that I am not unbeastlike myself."

Asterion stared.

"Are you a bull deity?" he asked.

"I am many things. A liberator. A bringer of joy. A god who blurs the lines between monstrous and human."

"What do you want from me?"

Asterion proceeded with his washing routine. This god was here for a spectacle, nothing more.

Dionysos watched him clean himself.

"Frankly, I just want to make your life a little better."

"Aren't you a god? Can't you make it a lot better?"

Dionysos chuckled.

"I'm just a young god, recently deified. I am not as powerful as Poseidon or my father. But I can always grant some quick relief."

He came closer, a small creature compared to the Bull of Minos. Asterion looked down, the horned head crowned with an ivy wreath just about reaching to his chest. There was mischief in those dark, divine eyes and Asterion wondered if he should be scared when two soft hands picked up his flaccid cock.

"Did they show you how to clean this male thing?" Dionysos asked, Asterion hardening to his touch.

"I just use water," the Bull of Minos snorted. "Yes, what else would you have here?" Dionysos pulled back the foreskin. "You should clean it daily. Pull back the prepuce like this, so it is exposing the head. Something considered very naughty in the outside world, by the way. Then gently wash it with water."

Dionysos scooped up some water in a hollow hand and poured it over Asterion's member, rubbing and scrubbing.

"Make sure you clean the head and all around it from all angles to avoid missing a spot."

Asterion let out a small puff of air. Was the god really rubbing him off?

"It will help prevent itchiness and soreness."

Dionysos looked up, his eyes dark and mysterious.

"Do you like what I'm doing?"

"It's pleasurable," Asterion replied. It felt like a weird dream, a god nobody had ever heard of coming to the labyrinth of all places to rub him off. But if it was a dream, he would fucking enjoy it! "Please continue if you are so inclined."

"I am."

Dionysos's small hands were working their way around his crown, attempting to dip it under water but it would always come right back up, pointing to the ceiling.

"This is such a marvelous rod you have there," Dionysos said with admiration in his voice, "Long and thick like a satyr."

Asterion had never seen a satyr but they were hybrid creatures like him. Part human and part donkey instead of part bull. Maybe it was a fair assessment. In any case, it was supposed to be a compliment.

"Thanks," he said curtly, the soft rubs making it hard to focus on the conversation. The little god seemed to know exactly what he was doing, both cleaning the cock and pleasing the cock. It was getting hot in the cool, damp room.

"It's so hard!" Dionysos kept commenting. "And the tip is so nice and pointy."

Asterion just groaned in reply, the continued stimulation becoming too much. With a loud, deep bellow he released, shooting a tremendous volume of sperm into the basin. The little god watched with big, round eyes as it formed milky clouds in the water.

"Well," he said, "Guess I have to start over with the cleaning."

FIN

Day 5 Public Performance: Chiron

"Who can tell me what kentareion is good for?"

Asklepios raised his hand, of course he did. Chiron was so very proud of the son of his adoptive father. Where his other students were eager to learn archery and hunting, Asklepios was happy to collect herbs and create medicine from them. But someone else should get the chance to speak.

"Theseus. What would you use it for?"

The youth, sent to him by his grandfather and with the blessing of Poseidon, looked at his feet and mumbled an incomprehensible answer.

"Would you repeat that more clearly for me, dear Theseus?" Chiron requested patiently.

"It's for archery wounds. You make a poultice."

Asklepios scoffed but Chiron gestured at him to be quiet.

"No, Theseus. Kentareion is a drug against fever."

"Teacher?"

Iason was waving to catch his attention, the twins Kastor and Polydeukes shaking their heads at him.

"Yes, Iason?"

"Is there any medicine for love?"

"There are herbs that can help with the physical performance of love but none that cure the mind of it."

"Can you teach us about the physical performance?" asked Meleagros, the prince from Kalydon.

Chiron sighed. Oh yes, they were of that age. Sex, sex, sex, that's all they ever think about...

"I can. If that is what you wish."

Enthusiastic agreement came from all of them, even Asklepios.

"All right. I will teach you about physical love. But I will need two volunteers."

"But there are no girls here," Iason pointed out.

"No. But Eros can also strike the hearts of two boys. And I believe, since you correctly pointed out the lack of girls in our group, that it is the more applicable of the two."

A hum of agreement came from the students.

"So. Who volunteers to demonstrate the act of love?"

There was reluctance, mortals that age always concerned with what their peers might think. But a few hands were going up, one after one. It had been Polydeukes, the son of Zeus, who had first raised his hand, so Chiron would select him for sure. But who to pair him with? His fraternal twin brother was out, Iason seemed more interested in girls at the moment. Peleus had not raised his hand and Theseus had butted heads with Polydeukes too often. That left Meleagros and Melanion. Meleagros was a prince but Melanion was always eager and never backed down from a challenge even though the princeliest of his age were his rivals. He would match well with Polydeukes.

"Melanion. Polydeukes. Come forth if you are willing."

Both youths got up and joined him in front of the other students. Both were nervous but it would pass.

"Undress, both of you."

This was nothing out of the ordinary, the boys undressed for wrestling and bathing all the time. The new, exciting stuff was what would follow. Giddy, the two volunteers stood opposite each other.

"Who is the elder of the two of you?" Chiron asked, even though he knew the answer well.

"I am!" Polydeukes proclaimed. They were so young, every year still counted. For Chiron, immortality had long rendered them meaningless.

"Then you are the one to take initiative," Chiron told him. "It's you who should, ideally, make the first move. How do you approach this beautiful youth?"

"Gifts! Sweet-talk! Grab his cock!" came from the audience of other students.

"Do I have to court him? I thought we were just fucking."

"Give him an obol and bend him over!" Iason joked.

Chiron gestured at the boys to be quiet and the clearing fell silent.

"If you want to court a boy, Polydeukes, what do you do?"

"I, uh, get him a gift?"

"You can do that. But I'd recommend talking to him first." Chiron said with a wink. "But starting with a gift isn't wrong."

He handed Polydeukes one of the rabbits they had caught earlier.

"Rabbits are sacred to Eros, so they make for a wonderful love gift," he explained. "But anything can be a lover's gift."

Polydeukes handed Melanion the rabbit.

"For you. Wanna fuck?"

Melanion and the other studends giggled.

"Sure, why not?" the younger boy replied with a cheeky smile.

"First," Chiron interjected, "You will need to make some preparations. Who can tell me what the appropriate kind of sex is for this couple?"

"Innercrucial sex!" Kastor shouted.

"Idiot, it's intercrural, not innercrucial. What would that even mean?" Asklepios scoffed.

"Now, now, Asklepios. What have I told you about name calling?"

"Not to do it," the son of Apollon mumbled.

"Exactly. Apologise to Kastor."

"I'm sorry, you're not an idiot," Asklepios said obediently.

"Thank you. Now, Kastor, Asklepios is right. It is intercrural sex, doing it between the thighs. And what do you have to do before you can start?"

"We need oil!" Melanion exclaimed.

"Correct. It isn't as crucial as it would be for a less honourable form of sex but it makes gliding between the legs much easier. And if you should do this with a girl, the oil will help her too, making overstimulation less likely and maximising her pleasure." Chiron handed Polydeukes an oil flask. "Go ahead. Oil his thighs if he is willing."

"Are you willing?" asked Polydeukes, "To be oiled like an athlete and receive my phallos between your thighs?"

"Yes. As long as I'm not sent to the race track instead," Melanion joked.

"What is the difference, though, between oiling someone for intercourse and oiling someone for wrestling?"

"Obviously you just need to oil the legs," Peleus said, "Not the whole body."

"And you wouldn't dust it," Asklepios added. "That would fucking hurt!"

"You are both correct," Chiron said, not without pride. He watched Polydeukes spread the oil on Melanion, rubbing it into his skin until his legs glistened with the lubricant.

"If you have a virgin partner, it's always important to check with them if they are ready to proceed and how they are doing. Especially girls can be shy. So it's best if you make it easy for them to go ahead or stop."

"Are you a virgin, Melanion?" asked Polydeukes.

Melanion blushed.

"Depends on what you count," he mumbled.

"Any sexual experience."

"Then I guess not."

"Ooooooh!" came from the group of students. Chiron silenced them.

"Melanion's experiences are his own business," he said firmly, "Not something to be discussed in class."

There was some grumbling but no backchat.

"Now, Polydeukes, you were in the process of initiating intercourse."

"Right."

Polydeukes turned away from his fellow students, rubbing himself for a steady erection but it wouldn't come, no matter how desperately the son of Zeus worked his member. The other students started whispering and some hushed giggles could be heard.

"Do you need help, Polydeukes?" asked Chiron kindly. "Or would you prefer someone else stepping into the role?"

"No! No. Uh..."

"It's all right, lad. Lots of phalloi get stage fright. Performing in front of an audience is a skill, not a matter of course. You take your time."

"Thanks, teacher."

"And you let us know if you need a hand."

"I can help," offered Melanion, his long, dark lashes shimmering like silk.

Polydeukes gulped.

"All right," he mumbled.

Melanion wrapped one arm around his waist and his right hand around the elder boy's limp cock.

"I never back down from a challenge," he said with a wink and rubbed. Chiron nodded at him with approval. Under the swift hands of Melanion, Polydeukes indeed began to swell.

"Son of Zeus, master of horses, prince of Sparta, come between my thighs and stain them with your semi-divine seed," Melanion whispered in a low, seductive voice.

"Oh yes, I will!" Polydeukes bent him over, a little rough for Chiron's taste, and pushed between the oiled thighs. Melanion put a hand where the shaft would slip through, giving it something to push against. No, he was not doing this for the first time. Chiron had his suspicions as to who his partner might be but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that the boys in his care knew what they were doing so they wouldn't take any stupid risks.

"Don't use unsuitable substitutes for oil like soap or egg whites. Always use oil."

A murmur from the class.

"Always carry a flask on your person to avoid temptation to substitute it."

Polydeukes started panting, his head bright red. Melanion held on to him to offer some resistance to his thrusts.

"Polydeukes, don't be a selfish lover," Chiron reminded him, "Give Melanion some pleasure with your hand as well to make the most of your encounter."

The son of Zeus grunted in response and gave him a nod, reaching for Melanion's cock.

"Yes, like that," Chiron encouraged him. Both youths were giving soft moans and heavy breaths, hard to make out over the slapping sound of Polydeukes slamming against Melanion, but they were there.

"Oh fuck!" the elder student exclaimed, his fist tightening around Melanion, prompting a hiss. Spurts of come splashed on the ground and Melanion's thighs. Despite his efforts to keep quiet, Polydeukes released a desperate moan. He kept thrusting, riding out his orgasm, his hand a blur as he rubbed Melanion to completion. Chiron was proud. Such good students.

"Thank you for the vivid demonstration," he said, offering both of them a bucket of water and a cloth, "Well done." He turned to the class. "Any questions?"

A multitude of hands shot up. Oh well. Sex, sex, sex, that's all they ever think about.

FIN

Notes

Common centaury (Centaurium erythraea, aka Centaurium umbellatum Gilib) was allegedly called Chironia and Kentareion in ancient Greek texts but I didn't find solid evidence for that so take it with a bucket of salt. It is mentioned by Hippokrates in a catalogue of 300 plants and their therapeutic qualities.

Intercrural sex is a modern term, so the dialogue about getting the word wrong is anachronistic. The ancient Greek term for intercrural sex was διαμηρίζειν diamērizein ("to do [something] between the thighs"). So please imagine an appropriate mistake for Kastor that I transferred into modern English ;-)

The Greek word for "virgin" is parthenos (παρθένος). Although typically applied to women, it is also applied to men. In both cases it specifically denotes an absence of sexual experience.

Day 6 Bratty Sub or Bratty Top: Medea

Medea lay on the bed, golden jewellery adorning her female form. Her index finger hooked through the ring in her gem-encrusted collar. After they had settled in Korinth, life had been tough. But Medea had the "barbarian gold", as Iason called it, and she had refused to sell it. The jewellery was all she had left from her home in Kolchis. And it served more than one purpose. For one, it made her look exotic when she sold her concoctions to the people of Korinth. It gave her an aura of mystery that was good for business. But also, Iason enjoyed including it in their bedroom games. He liked to pretend like she was a wild woman he defeated and took home for a war prize or a wealthy hetaira or a woman he purchased at the slave market that had to be forced into submission. Medea believed that deep down Iason knew that she was more skilled and powerful than he was. But as long as these games kept him happy, she'd play along. She never made it easy for him, though.

"Have you put on the jewellery, woman?" Iason asked as he entered, already in the process of taking off his belt.

"See for yourself, Greek scum," she said, spreading out on the bed for him to see her charms.

"Call me that again and your backside will pay for it."

"What? Greek scum?"

Iason struck her with his flat hand. It had a nice sting to it.

"You call that punishment, Greek boy?"

"Maybe you'd prefer choking on cock instead?"

"I'd like to see you try. That tiny chickpea couldn't choke a chicken."

He grabbed her by the ring in her collar, yanking hard. She yelped, her golden jewellery clinking. Her eyes were spitting the fire of the heavens, her grandfather Helios' light.

"Open wide, bitch," he said, pushing his erection into her mouth. She struggled against the hand on her head forcing her against his groin, if only to make him feel more powerful. He pulled her hair, just a little, and started thrusting into her. Medea bit down on his cock with gentle teeth, prompting him to stop instantly.

"It seems you still have to unlearn your savage ways," he said, the pull on her collar tightening her throat. "I will have to fuck them out of you."

Iason smacked her buttocks again, this time with his belt. Medea felt the hot, red stream like fire racing under her skin.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asked, taunting him.

"I'll show you the best I can do."

Iason pounced on her, using his weight and warrior's strength to pin her down and enter her. Medea loved his cock, she couldn't get enough of it. But to please him she said:

"Are you a eunuch? I don't feel anything."

Iason pulled on her collar, cutting off the air supply for a brief moment.

"If you feel it or not, I will fill you with my seed."

He didn't hold back, fucking wildly, just the way the both of them enjoyed it. Medea couldn't quite keep up the act, moaning and whispering his name. How she loved this man! Aphrodite had got her good. Squirming beneath him, hurling insults between lustful cries, she thanked Aphrodite for the lucky match she had dealt her.

FIN

Day 8 Food play: Ikaros

Ikaros sat by the window in the room that was his stone prison. The window was high up, a fall would kill a man. His father was asleep, exhausted from building the labyrinth for the king. Other than with his other projects, Ikaros was not allowed to help him with this one. His gaze went over the sea to the port of Knossos, busy with sailors and soldiers. Crete was famous for its naval might. But he was much more interested in the foreign wares that would reach Knossos by ship. His stomach rumbled. He and his father were fed, they were not starved. But none of their captors took into account that his father was a hard-working man and he was a youth. There was food, but it was never enough. He poured himself a glass of water to fill his stomach with SOMETHING when he heard a knock on the door. That was odd. The people coming here, they did not knock. Ikaros approached the thoroughly locked door (he had tried) and knocked softly against the wood in reply.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Are you the son?" The voice sounded like a young man. None of the guards spoke like that. Nor Queen Pasiphae, who sometimes came to visit.

"Yes," Ikaros said tentatively. "And who are you?"

A key was turned in the lock of the door and it opened a crack. Ikaros could make out a youthful face behind it. The face of King Minos' eldest son. His hand grabbed Ikaros by the arm and pulled him into the corridor. Katreus, the prince, was tall and broad-shouldered. He would be able to overpower him easily if he so wished. But he needed both hands for the lock. Ikaros looked around. There was no one else here.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Katreus took him roughly by the neck and steered him through the palace until they arrived in another room that looked no less like a prison. There were chains on the floor and heavy hand cuffs but Ikaros had only eyes for the food-ladden table on the far side of the room. His mouth began to water at the smell.

"Do you like what you see?" Katreus asked with a grin.

"More like what I can smell," Ikaros replied, taking a deep breath through the nose, enjoying all the complex, sweet and savoury aromas.

"All this will be yours," Katreus said, "But I will take your virginity."

That took Ikaros by surprise. He was scrawny and lank, a far cry from the prized athletes admired by boys and men. Then again, slaves were not taken to bed for their looks.

"What are you buying with the meal, exactly?" he asked, despite the hole in his stomach. "It can't be my virginity if you already decided to claim it."

"Indeed I am not," Katreus said with a smirk. "I could bend you over right now and there would be nothing you could do about it." He casually picked up a cut of meat. "But I think word doesn't have to leave this room. Too easily rumours take flight. If I stuff your mouth with food, will it remain shut?"

"I don't know. One meal is a fleeting pleasure for a lifetime of silence."

"If your life won't be long, it's a fair bargain."

Ikaros gave the older boy a sarcastic look.

"Too bad I'm not planning on my life to be short."

"The gods don't care about your plans. Listen..." Katreus scooped up some soft cheese and brushed his finger over Ikaros' lips. "This doesn't have to be difficult. You could just enjoy yourself."

Ikaros licked the cheese off. It had been mixed with herbs and it was so delicious it took all his will-power not to beg for more.

"No, it doesn't have to be difficult. If you offer consistent meals instead of just one."

If he was strong now, he would be rewarded tenfold, hundredfold later.

"I think you don't realise how utterly exquisite these treats are." Katreus lifted a spoon of golden honey and drizzled it into his mouth. "Hmmmm." He put the spoon back into the jar and kissed Ikaros on the lips. Oh dear. Not only did he spread the sticky goodness over his lips, he slipped in his tongue, the overwhelming taste of honey filling Ikaros' mouth. He whimpered. How long had it been since he had received such a treat? He responded to the kiss, trying to get more of that delicious honey while Katreus slid his hands down his sides to his bum cheeks.

"Perky like a fresh ham," he said, pinching Ikaros' buttocks. "Aren't you hungry, boy?" He selected some fresh fruit, juicy and ripe, and put the pieces into Ikaros' mouth one by one, his left hand never leaving the buttocks. Ikaros moaned. They were too good, especially when Katreus mixed them with the herbal cheese. He greedily sucked the juice off Katreus' fingers, let him unpin his rough-spun chiton.

"So..." the prince asked, putting a deep-fried anchovy into the prisoner's mouth, "Do we have an agreement?"

Ikaros chewed, savouring the salty taste of the fish and the crispy batter. Was he really going to prostitute himself for food? On the other hand, he could make the promise now and if any words did leap out of his mouth, what was he going to do? He and his father were prisoners but they were important prisoners. A black eye and a cracked rib would be worth it. So he nodded.

"We do."

"You are smarter than you look." Katreus fed him another anchovy. "And I like you better with your mouth shut."

"Just keep the food coming, then," Ikaros replied with a smirk.

Katreus snorted and stuffed three pieces of cheese-filled pork into his mouth. Then he picked up an oil jar and poured it into his hand.

"Something for me to lick clean?" Ikaros asked with his mouth full.

"No. That's for your other hole," Katreus answered bluntly and handed the boy the whole plate of grilled meat while he got to work on his buttocks, spreading the oil. Ikaros jumped when he touched his entrance.

"Calm down, this is what you signed up for," Katreus told him. "Unless you want me to go in raw, you'll have to deal with it."

Ikaros finished the meat.

"I didn't know you were going for the hole and not the thighs."

Katreus laughed.

"You're no aristocrat. Not even anyone important. You and your father are prisoners. Why should I give a flying fuck about your honour?"

"You're right, I shouldn't have mistake you for a kind and considerate person," Ikaros conceded. Katreus looked a breath away from striking him but it seemed like he thought the better of it and continued with his work, probing the anus and making sure everything was nice and slick. Ikaros emptied a large bowl of rice with mutton and fried gourd. He was beginning to feel full but there was still so much food on the table! Katreus took away the jar of honey and, to Ikaros' shock, dunked his dick in it!

"Lick," he commanded. Ikaros sunk to his knees in front of him, eager to prevent any drops from falling to the floor. He hurried to lick off the excess honey, feeling the member harden under his tongue. By Lord Aristaios, the honey was divine! He licked along the whole length, again and again, just to get it all off.

"Good boy," Katreus said, patting his head. Now finish the food so I can bend you over that table."

There was still quite a lot left. Ikaros let Katreus feed him the stuffed wine leaves and the small honey cakes that left crumbs everywhere. His stomach began to protest.

"Ugh, please, no more food," he pleaded.

"There's still two plates left," Katreus insisted.

"Would you let them go to waste?"

Ikaros groaned.

"There's enough space now. I can finish the rest afterwards."

"We'll see about that."

Katreus roughly bent him over the table, his cock eagerly pushing in. Ikaros grunted. It didn't hurt much, but it felt pretty fucking weird to have something go up that way. But Katreus was definitely into it, releasing a soft moan.

"By golden Aphrodite," he sighed, "If only you didn't talk back so much. It's so unattractive."

"And yet you're still here, fucking me."

"I liked it better when your mouth was stuffed full."

He pulled the plate over to him, filled with cheese balls drenched in honey.

"You were so eagerly licking the honey before. Open up."

Ikaros shook his head, keeping his mouth shut. But then Katreus started to move inside him, eliciting a gasp at the unexpected pleasure. Quickly, two of the sweet, sticky balls were shoved into his mouth, almost choking him. He a sound of protest but the honey really tasted as if Hebe herself had poured it from the heavens. He chewed, the delightful, sweet milkiness of the cheese with only the mildest hint of tanginess. He swallowed, Katreus' honeyed fingers pushing in the next batch. Ikaros let them melt on his tongue this time, relishing every drop of the sweet, aromatic honey. Katreus' thrusts came with increasingly louder noises. With a chuckle, his mouth still half filled with fried cheese and honey, Ikaros realised that while he didn't care for Katreus one bit, he quite enjoyed being stuffed on both ends. He finished the plate of fritters just as Katreus released a shaking moan and shot his seed. Ikaros felt it run down his leg a short moment after.

"I'll take that last platter to my room, please," Ikaros told him. "Instead of the obol you owe me." He winked.

"Oh by Zeus' thunderbolt, just shut the fuck up!"

FIN

(One obol was the proverbial price for a cheap prostitute)

Day 14 Sensory Deprivation: Helen of Sparta

"Do not be afraid," Aphrodite purred, sitting on Helene's bed. "He will whisk you away to Troy, undiscovered. If you are worried about his plan, rest assured that he has divine help."

"I want to be with him," Helene said, love and passion burning in her breast, "But I'm scared, Lady Aphrodite. What if anything goes wrong? What if my husband seeks retaliation against me?"

"I will promise you here and now that you will suffer no ill fate at the hands of your husband."

Helene nodded silently.

"Put it on, then. I cannot wait to see Paris again."

Aphrodite picked up the silken band she had laid out before the Spartan queen.

"He cannot wait to see you again either."

The silk felt cool and smooth against her closed eyelids as Aphrodite fastened it around her head.

"Gorgeous."

Helene heard her move and touch her hand, putting the bag she had packed earlier around her wrist.

"Your hot Trojan prince awaits you," Aphrodite whispered with a sultry voice that set her loins ablaze.

"Yes," she replied but Aphrodite's presence was fading. She heard the door creak. Was it the goddess leaving or...?

"Helene, light of my eyes!"

Paris had embraced her so quickly, she hadn't seen any of it coming. Well. She couldn't see ANYTHING. But she hadn't expected him to move so swiftly and silently.

"Are you ready for your new life?"

He kissed her. Helen nodded.

"Yes. I'll go with you."

"Helene of Troy," Paris said dreamily. He put an arm around her shoulders, the other took her hand. "I'll lead you out of Sparta safely. Good thinking with the blindfold. Anyone who sees us will think I'm stealing you." He chuckled. "When all I did was steal your heart."

"You ARE stealing me, even if I come willingly. But it makes no matter. Let's get out of here."

He led her through the familiar palace outside and into a wagon that drove them through the city. The Trojan ships lay in the port of Gytheio, Paris had said as much during is stay. It was still a long way to the sea.

"Don't worry," Paris whispered into her ear, "We won't be discovered."

"With divine help?" Helene asked.

"Exactly. We have the power of the gods on our side."

"Lady Aphrodite?"

"The very same." After a pause he added: "We should honour her, you know?"

"Of course. We will make sacrifices. Once we are safely behind Troy's famous walls."

"I'm thinking more of a... hands-on approach."

His hand snaked into her simple dress and started caressing her thigh.

"I don't know about this approach, Paris."

"But I do. You're so nervous, let's get your mind off of this." He kissed her, pulling her close with one arm. "I love you, Helene."

Her smouldering heart burst into flames again, her passion for the prince no longer containable.

"I love you too, Paris, you darling of Aphrodite."

He chuckled, covering her neck with little kisses. His touch was so much more intense now that she couldn't see what he was doing. She heard his wet lips as they met her skin, felt his hair against her chin, his hand on its way between her legs.

"Oh by golden Kypria," she moaned. She felt him move beside her, his hand edging closer to her womanhood. His breath revealed his excitement. They were both hot for each other. Aphrodite would love this.

"I do, my dear."

Helene startled. Did she just hear that or was that her mind playing tricks on her? She couldn't tell. Was the goddess here? If her passion for Paris was any indicator, she was. And he was burning with desire as well, his little moans music in her ears.

He was closing in on her slit, agonisingly slow. A low whimper escaped her.

"My most beautiful wife," Paris purred, kissing her ear. "My beautiful Helene."

"Not wife yet," Helene said, and she regreted that he couldn't see the smoulder in her eyes underneath the silken blindfold, "We will have to consumate our marriage if you want to go around calling me your wife."

"Soon, darling, soon."

His hand had reached her folds and suddenly broke the contact.

"No, please..." she pleaded, "Please keep touching me, Paris, please."

His voice sounded further away, but he hadn't left her side. She extended her hands into the unknown until she grasped him, felt him, explored his form to find where he held his head, how he was sitting in the wagon. While her hands were blindly roamning his body, she bumped against his hard shaft and it fuelled the flames that had already been rising high.

"Helene..." He said her name with a thickness in his voice that made her want to ride him like a race horse.

"What is it, love?" she replied with barely contained desire.

"You are so beautiful, I... when there was the judgement, it was never a second thought. The gods offered me power and military prowess but I chose you immediately."

What an incredibly foolish yet deeply romantic thing to do.

"Do you regret your decision?" Helene asked.

"No. Not a single time."

"Then satisfy me, Prince of Troy."

"As my lady commands."

He caressed her slit, kissing her teats as if honey flowed from them. His tongue felt hot and wet against her skin, every breath a jolt of coolness on her moist skin. His fingers, slick and nimble, slid up and down her slit, from the swollen crest to the opening craving his manhood. But not here. Not in the moving wagon.

"We'll consumate our marriage on the island of Kranai," he told her, his voice low and sensual, "Just outside the port of Gytheio."

"Then what will you do now to satisfy your queen?"

"I think I'm doing pretty well." She could practically hear his cocky grin.

"I did not spend in your arms yet, sweet Paris."

"But you will."

He entered her cunt with two fingers. Helene sighed. She hadn't let him fuck her, not while they were in Sparta. But he had used other means to seduce his host's wife. And he was not bad. If he were, she doubted she'd be sitting in this wagon on the way to Troy right now, handsome though the prince was. His fingers slid easily in and out, coated with her juices. Oh by flaming Eros, how she loved him! He suckled on her teat, sending jolts of her father's lightning through her. By Zeus, she was so horny and so close, so deliciously close.

"Keep going," she told him, "Don't change a thing!"

He made a sound of agreement against her breast, doing her bidding. The angle of his fingers was oh so right! Every push inside her made her tighten, every stretch of her cunt brought her closer. She felt his erection again, wetting her thigh. He was just as desperate as she was.

"I love you, Helene of Troy," he whispered and maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was not, but when she heard those words, the raw, unyielding thrusts of Paris' fingers drove her over the edge of climax, making her cry out and tremble in his arms.

He did not take off her blindfold but he kissed her and enwrapped her even closer in his arms.

"When is it going to be my turn?"

"Your turn, dear Paris," she said in a teasing but determined tone, "is when we arrive on Kranai."

FIN

Gytheio was the seaport of ancient Sparta, which lies approximately 40 kilometres (25 miles) North of it. It is also the site of ancient Kranai, a tiny island just off the coast. According to the Iliad, Paris and Helene spent their first night together on Kranai before departing for Troy.

Kranai is also the title of a story I wrote in which Aphrodite joins Paris and Helene for their first time. Read it here.

Day 17 Humiliation: Atalante

Atalante woke, looking fondly upon her new husband, Melanion. She had been reluctant to marry, outrunning every suitor in a race for her hand and putting to death the loser. When she saw Melanion, her old companion from the Calydonian boar hunt, she had been joyous until she found out he, too, intended to race her. She knew him well enough to be certain he would never outrun her. But she didn't want him killed. Despite her pleas, he announced his challenge like an idiot. When he threw the golden apples on the race track, it was a way to lose to him without losing face by obviously letting him win or beating him and going through with the execution. And how happy Aphrodite had made them! Atalante nudged him.

"Melanion? Sweetness, are you awake?"

He groaned.

"Now I am."

"Good. Because-" she kissed him, "I am unbelievable horny for you."

He gave her that love-struck look that she had never noticed until he showed up for the race.

"My darling wife, I shall end your suffering." He kissed her. "But if I may ask - would you... can we... I'd like... ugh!"

"Cat got your tongue?" Atalante kissed him. "No, there it is," she teased. "Do you want to ask me if I would make love to you like a wild girl who abhors the embrace of men?"

Melanion gave her a sheepish look.

"Hmmm, kind of?"

He was so cute. They had done this a few times, with her hurling insults at him and purging herself in his mouth and it had been some of the best sex they had, but still he was shy to bring it up. She put on a mocking tone, starting the game:

"Oh dear. Not even man enough to tell your own wife what you want."

"My own wife might shoot me if I do."

"At least one of us is. Because I'm not sure YOU will be shooting today."

"Did I do badly, Potnia?"

"You are such a disappointment, Melanion. Both in the bed and outside of it." She shook her head. "And by Zeus, better men than you have warmed their cocks inside this furnace." She rose, exposing her vulva to him. "Meleagros was cheating on his wife with me and still he was a better husband than you are."

"I loved you from afar, even back then," Melanion said with a small voice. He was being sincere. But it didn't matter in this game.

"Because you don't have the manly spirit to take me away from him. You never even told me that you liked me until you showed up for that race. And what a race it was! Without Aphrodite on your side, you would have lost your pretty head for nothing! There's no way you could have ever beaten me in a race, little man. Your athletic prowess is so inferior to mine it's a miracle Meleagros even called you for the Calydonian boar hunt. But I suppose he could use all the help he could get. Even you."

"He called for all heroes. And I was tutored by Chiron."

"Along with heroes far greater than you. Polydeukes is a son of Zeus. Peleus married a GODDESS. What have you ever achieved?"

"I married the most extraordinary of women. I have no care for Helene's beauty or the dutiful endurance of Kleopatre. My wife defeated Peleus in wrestling and would have won beautiful Thetis for herself if she had put her mind to it. My wife outran me and everybody else in full armour. My wife drew first blood on the Calydonian boar. My greatest achievement is winning her hand."

Atalante was so touched by his sweet words that she almost slipped out of the game. Almost.

"Being spared out of pity is not an achievement," she told him, "You should rightfully thank your mistress on your knees for her mercy towards you."

"Yes!" He crawled towards her on his knees. "Potnia, thank you! Thank you for sparing my life, thank you for saving me from death and public ridicule, thank you for taking this pathetic man's hand in marriage."

"Good boy. Now, to show your gratitude, you will provide me with a seat."

She wrestled him to make him lie on his back. He put up a bit of a fight but still, defeating him was easy by their own volition.

"Again you best me, Atalanate of Arkadia," he said, unable to keep the admiration out of his voice.

"Indeed I do. How embarrassing for you." She sat down on his face. "You will pay tribute to me in tongue like a pornos, until I purge myself into your mouth. Chiron would be so proud to see his student like this."

He blushed beneath her thighs, his tongue darting out to lick. Oh, his tongue was wonderful! If there was one thing to be said for him, and in truth, there were many, despite her harsh words, he never backed down from a challenge. Not even if it involved learning how to lick her as well as the companions of Artemis.

"You call that licking?" She took away control from him, riding his face like a racehorse. "Do I have to do everything myself?"

Beads of pre-come glistened on the tip of his erection. Oh, he was into this. She spanked his flank. "Harder!" His tongue strained against her folds as she used him for her pleasure, her thighs locking his head in place. She made him groan with every jolt of her hips until they groaned together, a warm shower of pleasure flooding her with every stroke of his tongue, making her love him even more. When she noticed his beginning fatigue she dismounted.

"Good boy," she said, swooping him up in her strong arms, "No matter how the world may judge us, you'll always be a hero to me."

FIN

Kleopatre: the wife of Meleagros on whom he cheated with Atalante

Day 18 Love Magic: Phaedra

Phaedra had received no reply yet from her mother, Pasiphae, the daughter of the Sun who had cursed her husband Minos with her magic so he could never be unfaithful to her. Nor of her aunt Circe, reknowned for her pharmakeia, the magic of potions. But Phaedra could wait no longer. Too long had love-sickness clouded her heart and mind. She had to do something about it. Hippolytos may have rejected her but he was young and foolish with his obsession with chastity and she would employ the powers of magic to give him a change of heart. With clear instructions not to be disturbed, she had worked on the katadesmos, carefully crafting the words of power.

"Have pity on Phaedra, dear daimones, for I am in a bad state. I bind Hippolytos, son of Theseus, before Hermes of the Underworld and before Hekate and before Tethys and the seven planets. I bind everything, both his words and deeds until Hippolytos does for Phaedra everything Phaedra wants. I bind him that he may never be able to sleep with any other man nor woman, nor find pleasure with any other woman but me, Phaedra, daughter of Pasiphae. May Hippolytos, son of Theseus, not sleep, may he burn with passion in madness, may he not sleep, nor sit, nor speak, but bear in his mind me, Phaedra, daughter of Pasiphae. May he burn with love and longing for me, may the mind and heart of Hippolytos, son of Theseus, burn with love and longing for me, Phaedra, daughter of Pasiphae. Let him not be able to sleep for the entire night, but lead him until he comes to her feet, loving her with a frenzied love, with affection and with sexual intercourse. For I have bound his brain and hands and genitals and heart."

She carefully added magical symbols she had seen her mother use. She didn't know what they were for but adding them couldn't hurt, could it? She rolled up the lead tablet and picked up the hammer to drive a big nail through it. She would sneak into his chambers while he was out hunting and hide the tablet under the mattress of his bed. Oh, what she would do to him when he, driven by the daimones, came to her at night, burning with passion for her! If only she had the magical kestos of Aphrodite to charm him, to steal all reservation and shyness from him. But she had to work with what she had. If the magic worked, Hippolytos would be eating her cunt by nightfall. He would knock on her door in the cloak of darkness and she would let him in, see the desire in his beautiful eyes, see his long hair dishevelled from his tossing and turning in bed thinking only of her. He would kneel by her feet, kissing up her calf, her thigh, until he reached the cleft between her legs and he would lick like a dog, shameless and eager. Phaedra was getting hot just thinking of this. He would do everything she wanted. A blush crept upon her cheeks, even though she was alone, when she thought of his embrace, of his rod hard with with the vigour of youth, and his lithe, toned body. And she would be his first! They said his mother had been an amazon and that was the reason why his behaviour and ideas where strange at times. But he has grown up with Theseus, had he not? Phaedra sighed, pushing the thoughts of her husband away. His son was so much more attractive. She stroked herself as she imagined him above her, pounding into her with the ardent fervour of a stag in rut. Sweat glistened on his shapely chest in the soft light of an oil lamp. His voice was as soft as the rustling of the leaves in the woods. His eyes shone like the most beautiful stars as he looked upon her, infatuation in his gaze. She rained a thousand kisses on him, touching his supple skin, feeling the moistness and warmth of his body. She rubbed harder as she imagined his cock swelling, imagined him crying out her name in sweet ecstacy, over and over until they both spent in perfect harmony. Phaedra shuddered as she climaxed, the fantasy so vivid it had to come true. It had to!

~~~

He did indeed come to her but not at night. She heard the knocks and flew into excitement. With flushed cheeks she opened the door to see him burning, not with passion but with anger!

"What unspeakable words have I heard!"

"Dear Hippolytos..." she opened her arms to embrace him but he pulled away.

"Keep your hands from me! Do not even touch my cloak!"

Phaedra looked at him, wide-eyed.

"Whatever has come over you, dear Hippolytos?"

"I found a certain love charm in my bed, a charm that tells plainly of how you wish to lie with me in the sacred bed of my father. I shall pour running water into my eyes to wash away your proposals! How could you think so poorly of me, when the very mention of such things makes me feel unclean? I would tell this whole story to my father, but since he is abroad at the moment, I shall leave the house and hold my tongue."

He turned on his heel, not even giving her the chance to reply. Well then. Stronger magic was clearly needed.

FIN

Learn more about curse tablets and their erotic spells in this article.

Hippolytus by Euripides, Greek and English, perseus.tufts.edu

Day 19 Sisyphos: Pet Play

When Ares spotted the guilty oath-breaker Sisyphos in the agora of Korinth, he didn't bother with a disguise or approaching him with caution. He should very well see who he was. In his divine armour, he was intimidating even to other gods. A mortal who had cheated Death was no match for him. Eyes blazing with rage about the hybris of chaining a GOD, he closed his fist around Sisyphos, neck.

"Got you," he said with a voice like the thud of spears.

Sisyphos squirmed and twisted in his grasp but Ares held on easily.

"You won't escape again," he said, "Not from me."

Mortals stopped and stared but none of them dared interfere. Ares pulled out a helmet in the shape of a dog's head.

"Put this on," he commanded harshly.

Sisyphos complied, a touch of fear in his shifty eyes. Good.

"Now down on all fours with you."

"Uhhh..." Sisyphos looked at him through the slits in the helmet.

"Talk back to me again and I'll make you die all over again."

"Do you have permis-"

"Do I look like I care about permissions?"

Ares slapped him hard so his ears must ring despite the helmet.

"No, dear god, no."

"You don't know who I am?"

"I have a suspicion but you never introduced yourself."

"And I won't." Ares gave him a push that sent him into the dirt of the agora. "On all fours, dog."

Sisyphos got up on his hands and knees as Ares had commanded.

"Good boy," Ares said with a cruel grin. "We are going to pay Lord Thanatos a visit. Down in the underworld where you belong."

Ares pulled a dog's collar from his war belt and fastened it around the fugitive's neck.

"Try escaping from this, arsehole."

He attached a leash, keeping it tight.

"Heel!"

Sisyphos tried to wriggle out of the collar, tried to catch Ares off guard and pull the leash from his hand but the war god's iron grip was no match for the deceitful mortal. So he could not help but walk right by Ares' heel, for the whole agora to see.

"This is better, isn't it? Now, relieve yourself before we descend to the underworld."

"Excuse me?!"

"I don't want you to piss into the Acheron. Come on, lift your leg."

Sisyphos looked around them. There were people, lots of people. They were watching discretely and they'd all see him peeing against the side of a house.

"Lucky for you that you are dead. So it doesn't matter what these people think," Ares told him. "Now go, I haven't got all day."

Reluctantly, Sisyphos did as he was told, lifting his leg and pissing against the corner of a house. His aim was shit and the urine went all over the place. Ares gave a dark chuckle. "I'll have to tell Thanatos that you're not yet house-trained. Come on."

~ ~ ~

Charon did not bat an eye when he ferried them up the river Lethe to the cave where Hypnos and Thanatos made their home. He did demand payment for both of them, though. One obol each, no exceptions. He let them disembark at the shore where a field of poppies announced the abode of Hypnos. Ares pulled on the leash.

"Heel."

Sisyphos didn't disobey this time. He followed Ares like a puppy through the sea of flowers towards the entrance of a pitch-black cave. And like a puppy he whined when they were about to set foot in the cave.

"Coward." Ares gave a tug on the leash. "We're going in, if you like it or not."

Sisyphos couldn't fight the war god and was dragged after him into the darkness.

"Hello?" Ares yelled, "Anybody home?"

From the shadows, a god with black wings emerged, his skin ashen and sallow. With a voice like woe he spoke:

"Ares. What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I have a gift for you, Thanatos."

He gave Sisyphos a kick and he howled in pain.

Death's eyes widened.

"You brought him back," he said softly.

"Sure did. And now you have a new pet."

Thanatos' eyes grew hard and cruel.

"I shall enjoy teaching him discipline. But first..."

He disappeared swiftly, returning with a burning torch and a simple bowl. He set it down on the ground before Sisyphos. It was filled with the flesh of rotting corpses.

"Eat."

Sisyphos shook his head vigorously, defiantly keeping his mouth shut.

"You will hunger for it soon enough," Thanatos said. "What a lovely gift, Ares."

"I thought you might like it. Well. I should get back up."

"You don't often make your way down here."

"No." He handed Thanatos the leash. "The fighting spirit has usually left those who turn up here."

Death rolled the leash in his pale hands. The flickering light of the torch gave him an even eerier look.

"Would you like to stay for a cup of nectar? Not for long... I'll have to deliver this naughty boy to Lord Hades after all."

"Sure." Ares looked him up and down. "But is it really nectar you want?"

A splash of pink coloured the hollow cheeks.

"I... I'll just admit it: I take joy from your company. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you freed me."

"It was my pleasure."

"As you know it was mine."

"Thanatos, are you trying to chat me up?"

"I... I don't know, I..."

He turned away, hiding his blush. Ares grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards him. He stumbled against his chest.

"Oh dear..." His fingers closed tight around the leash. "I should chain the dog."

"Oh yes." Ares grinned. "That is exactly what you should do."

Thanatos pulled Sisyphos with him into the cave. Ares followed with the torch, lighting the way for the two of them whose eyes were not used to the gloom of the underworld.

"Isn't this a nice, massive boulder?" Thanatos fastened the leash around it. "If you try to run away I will crush you with that rock, understand?"

Sisyphos nodded obediently.

"Stay."

When Sisyphos obeyed, staying put, Thanatos turned to Ares with a smile so bright it could have lit up the whole underworld.

"Thanks again for the gift," he said. "Let me show you my gratitude first hand."

FIN

Day 23 Orpheus: Semi Public Sex in Hiding

"And quickly came those
who dwelt at the base of Mount Pangaeus:
for willingly with joyful heart
the King of Winds, their father Boreas,
more swiftly urged on Zetes and Kálaïs,
mortal men whose backs were beating
with purple wings."
Pindar, Pythian Ode 4.180

Orpheus sat on the deck of the Argo, strumming his lyre when Kálaïs landed beside him, silent as an owl. His purple wings spread out from his back gave him a powerful, majestic appearance. Orpheus was so much in awe, he stopped playing. Kálaïs smirked.

"Miss me?"

"You were gone no longer than an hour."

"So?"

Orpheus put his lyre down and pulled Kálaïs close.

"Of course I miss you, you ice-cold son of the North Wind."

Kálaïs was beautiful. Long, dark hair fell in thick curls over his shoulders and from his strong back emerged those purple wings. They had sprouted at the same time as his first beard. Orpheus pressed a kiss on the cold lips of his beloved. The others would expect him to end their relationship now that Kálaïs was a grown man. But Orpheus couldn't even imagine breaking up with Kálaïs. If anything, the facial made him even more attractive.

"You will find me more akin to a hot, wet summer wind right now," Kálaïs said, giving him a cheeky grin.

"Eros is stirring desire in you?" Orpheus asked.

"He's stoking a fucking bonfire!" Kálaïs took his hands and tugged gently. "Let's find a place where we are not as exposed."

"This is a ship, love, we won't find a private place before going to shore for the night."

"How about a semi-private place?"

Orpheus raised an eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind?"

"The boys are busy rowing. What about atop the mast?"

"That doesn't strike me as very comfortable."

"All you do is complain, huh?"

"No, love, but I can't fly. I'd rather hide between the cargo than fall off the mast."

Kálaïs grumbled.

"Fine. I understand." He took Orpheus' hand. "To the cargo!"

Of course it wasn't nearly as private as Orpheus would have liked. It was possible to see up the skirts of the argonauts from below and they must be able to look back at them too. But it was better than in plain sight of their comrades.

Kálaïs kept his wings close to his body as he sat down on the topmost of a sack of beans.

"Come on, love. This place is good enough."

"If you're horny, any place is good enough."

"Oh, I'm very, very horny." Kálaïs pulled Orpheus on top of himself, his erection hard against Orpheus' thigh.

"You were not joking," Orpheus said, still reluctant to play along. "Shall we make quick work of it?

"Not too quick." Kálaïs gave Orpheus a longing look.

"No, not too quick." The gifted musician wrapped his hand around Kálaïs and fearfully looked up at his rowing friends.

"Be still, my love, while I give release to you."

Kálaïs kissed his erastes.

"You know I sing like a lyre beneath your hands."

Orpheus frowned, glancing up again to see if they had been spotted.

"They'll expect you to come back and set the rhythm with your music. But you're allowed to take a quick break."

Orpheus hushed him.

"Don't draw attention to us!"

There was Meleagros above them, flirting with Atalante who was also up there, rowing like one of the men.

"As long as you pay attention to ME."

Kálaïs pulled his lover's head towards him, kissing him. He was like the wind, his father, mercurial, capricious and fickle. Orpheus felt his breath in his face, warm and human and not icy at all. His member was pulsing in his grasp. Orpheus closed his fist a little tighter, hoping his lover wouldn't be too loud. The son of the North Wind puffed and panted, squirming so much on the sack of beans that Orpheus feared he might slide off. But he proved astonishing sense of balance.

"Orpheus, oh Orpheus," the winged demigod moaned, his cock slick with pre-come.

"I'm here, love, I'm here," Orpheus replied, intensifying his caress to finish him off before Meleagros ceased his flirting. Atalante was a remarkable woman but she was not attractive. Tall and brawny and shamelessly wearing her chiton at thigh-length, like a man. The prince would lose interest soon enough.

"Oh, winged Eros!" Kálaïs moaned, seemingly not bothered in the slightest by the very real threat of discovery. "You are burning me alive!"

"Let the flames of lust consume you," Orpheus said in his gentle, musical voice, "Let me see the bliss of pleasure on that beautiful face."

Kálaïs closed his eyes.

"I will, soon enough."

Orpheus kissed both eyelids.

"You'll soar as if carried on your wings by the winds but in truth you'll be carried by the Erotes, the playmates of Eros."

As if on cue, Kálaïs' wings spread out under him, knocking over a basket of dried figs. Fearfully, Orpheus glanced up only to see Meleagros scratching his scrotum. It was hanging from the rower's bench.

"By Eros!" Kálaïs cried, his wings flapping as the pleasure of his climax blew through him.

"Shush!" Orpheus reprimanded him, but it wouldn't be of much help. Beads of glistening come flew everywhere, like the ocean's spray foamed by the winds. Kálaïs wasn't quiet. Or at least, not quiet enough. When he stole a glimpse up to the rowers, he looked into the grinning faces of Meleagros and Atalante. Orpheus sighed. Time to negotiate the terms of their silence. Maybe, just maybe, Meleagros could be bought as cheaply as a handjob.

FIN

Notes

Orpheus' love for Kalaïs is explicitly expressed in "Erotes e Kaloi" (Loves and Beauties) by Phanokles, Fragment 1.3-6:

"...he sat there, singing of his longing desire, and his passion had no rest,
sleepless sorrow deep in his soul exhausting him,
as he looked upon blooming Kalaïs."

I gave Kalaïs purple wings on his back but this passage by Apollonos of Rhodos gives him golden head and ankle wings instead:

Next came Zetes and Kalaïs, sons of Boreas, whom once Oreithyia, daughter of Erechtheus, bare to Boreas on the verge of wintry Thrace; thither it was that Thracian Boreas snatched her away from Cecropia as she was whirling in the dance, hard by Hissus’ stream. And, carrying her far off, to the spot that men called the rock of Sarpedon, near the river Erginus, he wrapped her in dark clouds and forced her to his will. There they were making their dusky wings quiver upon their ankles on both sides as they rose, a great wonder to behold, wings that gleamed with golden scales: and round their backs from the top of the head and neck, hither and thither, their dark tresses were being shaken by the wind.
Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica, Book 1

Day 24 Hephaistos: Licking / Oral

Kharis, Kharites: Grace, Graces, goddesses of grace, beauty and joy in the retinue of Aphrodite

furnace: a an ancient Greek euphemism for the vagina

Hephaistos was putting away his tools, ending his work in the forge for the day. The gods always had need or want of his most beautiful creations. Sure, arrows and spears and his father's thunderbolts were run-of-the-mill affairs but jewellery and magical items imbued with divine essence, those were the pieces most deserving of his skill. He wiped the surface of the workbench when there was movement in the forge. He groaned.

"It's late. What do you want?"

"It IS late," a female voice replied, "And I came to pick up my husband."

His cheeks were instantly aglow with love. Aglaia. She had come all this way from Olympos just to ride back with him?

"You truly are the sweetest of wives," he said, wiping his sooty hands on the cloth before embracing her, lifting her up in the air and squeezing her.

"Oh, how I have missed you!" she exclaimed and pulled him in for a long, wet kiss. They had been married for a few months now, but every day still felt like a gift to him. It had been this way with Aphrodite too, in the beginning. But with Aglaia, he had every confidence that it would last.

"I parked the chariot outside," she told him, breathless with kisses, "We can leave anytime you want."

"Maybe I don't just yet." He lifted her up to his shoulders. "Maybe I want to take the opportunity of this empty forge to show my wife how much I adore her."

"By letting me sit on your face?"

Aglaia was one of the Kharites, goddesses of all that was beautiful, but she was also in the retinue of Aphrodite, well-versed in the many expressions of love and desire. Her saying it out loud so bluntly made Hephaistos blush like a maiden.

"If you want..." he replied, confirming her assumption.

"Oh, dear husband, how would I not!"

She quickly adjusted her position so she was kneeling on his shoulders, her thighs hugging his head. Her cunt was only a turn of the head away. Hephaistos' heartbeat quickened. He leaned against the workbench, the sturdy structure offering support so he didn't have to depend on his crutches. His burly arms were holding his wife securely. She took off his cap and stroked his hair with umost tenderness before rubbing her cunt against his hot mouth with the vigour and precision of a file on metal. Her enthusiasm might have tipped a lesser god off balance. Not Hephaistos. He stood like a rock, supporting her movements. His mouth opened for her, his fiery tongue eager to caress her folds. She was a marvel and he would take every opportunity to show her how he felt.

"Glorious god of smiths," Aglaia purred, "set my loins ablaze with your fire?"

"I will, my beauty, I will."

He held her tight, his tongue circling her entrance, then pushing inside, taking in her taste, her wonderful taste. He drew a deep breath to smell her over the biting smoke from the forge. The Moirai had truly blessed him this time. Aglaia's thighs tightened around his head, the horny Kharis clearly enjoying his caress. His hot, wet tongue withdrew from her opening, sliding up the slick slit instead. She was squirming on top of him but he had her secure.

"Hephaistos, oh Hephaistos!" she moaned, his name pouring out of her mouth like water from a fountain.

"My love," he rumbled agains ther womanhood, "My wife."

He lapped up her juices, eager to please her, eager to pleasure her. Sweet moans rang through the empty forge. He was doing something right. Her thighs quivered, her breathing harsh and ragged.

"My love," she panted, "My tower of strength."

"Always here for you," Hephaistos murmured, his tongue lashing at her womanhood. She liked it rougher once the little crest had hardened like a poker. He was emenating heat just like his forge. His lady didn't like it cold. Her little sighs and moans made him so very hot. But he couldn't even touch himself, he had to make sure she wouldn't waver or fall. Show her she could depend on him. Her breath came quicker and more shallow, her thighs losing their grip on him but he got her.

"Hephaistos!" she moaned, "Hephaistos!"

Her juices flowed like a mountain stream, coating his bearded chin. He didn't let it deter him for even a moment.

"Hephaistos!" she cried, "Hephaistos!"

His tongue deep inside her she shuddered, trembling around him, nothing but a sweet whimper leaving her lips. He still held her when she slumped, all tension gone.

"Let us go home, darling," she sighed.

"Yes, let us go home." Hephaistos did not set her down until they had arrived at the chariot. "And once we're home I'll set afire a different kind of furnace."

FIN