Three Can Play At That Game

Iolaus twisted sharply on the altar, tugging at the leather restraints securing his wrists over his head. The rattle of chains against marble echoed around the vaulted temple ceiling, but the bonds were secure. Like it or not, he was on display here until someone chose to release him.

A shiver traveled the length of his spine as he relaxed back onto the stone slab. Partly trepidation, partly anticipation, but mostly it was the cold. The temple was deeply shadowed, its sparse, flickering torches barely enough to light the place. The cool stone he was bound to, coupled with his complete nudity, provided little in the way of comfort or warmth.

He turned his head to look up at the larger-than-life statue of the God of War. Smooth black marble, it seemed to gaze down at its altar with a slightly sinister and suggestive leer.

“Gods,” Iolaus whispered, shaking his head, “how do I get myself into these things?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess.” Ares’ deep voice echoed, moments before the God materialised in a flash of blue lightning next to his blond offering.

“Oh, joy!” Iolaus groaned, letting his head drop back against the stone.

“So,” Ares grinned, sliding his hand up Iolaus’ naked thigh, “my bastard brother’s little boytoy bound to my altar. This could be amusing.”

Iolaus shifted as far away from the lingering caress as his restraints allowed. “Hands off, Ares!”

A wicked glint lit the God’s dark eyes, “who needs hands?” Extending his tongue, Ares bent over Iolaus’ thigh, licking a wet trail along the same path his hands had just taken, stopping only when his nose brushed at golden curls. Concentrating on the sensitive juncture between thigh and groin, Ares nibbled and sucked, working the spot until a vivid mark arose there.

“Noooo,” the strangled exclamation was somewhere between a whisper and a groan, as Iolaus struggled again with the shackles around his wrists.

“No?” Ares growled, scowling at the blond. “I don’t think you understand how this works, mortal.” He stood tall, arms folded over his chest, “I am ARES, GOD OF WAR!” Thunder echoed through the temple. “This is my altar.” Ares leaned close to Iolaus, “Anything left here belongs to me.” He slid a calloused hand along the hunter’s jaw, turning Iolaus’ eyes to meet his, “and I will play with my toys however I see fit.” Without releasing his tight grip, Ares took Iolaus’ lips with a bruising, breath-stealing kiss.

Iolaus moaned under the onslaught, his body’s reaction swift and oh so visible as it bobbed against his thigh.

Ares grinned, the wicked glint bright in his eyes. “Let’s play, shall we?”

Iolaus swallowed sharply, eyes dilated with arousal. “Ares...”

With a flash of the God’s fingers, the rest of what Iolaus had to say was muffled behind a large leather phallus, taking the place of a gag, buckled in with a tight strap around his head. “Oh, yeah,” Ares murmured, meeting Iolaus’ outraged eyes, “shut up.”

Ares swiped his tongue across a pointed nipple before grasping it tightly between thumb and forefinger, twisting it, then tugging lightly, extending the tiny nub slightly.

Iolaus groaned sharply, arching under the stimulation.

Ares only chuckled. He waved a small clamp in front of Iolaus’ widening eyes. With one last tug on the nipple between his fingers, he positioned the clamp on it, slowly tightening the screw until Iolaus grunted, pulling away. With an evil grin, Ares gave the screw one last twist, before attaching a second clamp to the remaining nipple.

Standing back to survey his handiwork, Ares flicked a finger against one of the small clamps. The response was immediate.

Iolaus gasped around his gag, shuddering as he arched away, unable to escape the sharp sensation, painfully aware that each flick of Ares’ fingers on the clamps sent a sharp needle of fire straight through his growing cock.

“Nice,” Ares nodded at the erection, twitching as it lay long and red, pointing up the blonde’s belly. “Needs some decoration though.”

A snap of his fingers and clap of thunder later, Ares was holding a jumble of leather rings and straps in the palm of his outstretched hand. He smoothed a gentle finger almost reverently along the shining black leather. “I call it the Gates of Tartarus,” he murmured. With a deep breath, he smiled slowly in the bound man’s direction. “You’ll soon understand why.”

Sliding his fingers around Iolaus’ semi-erect cock, Ares pumped it slowly, once, twice, just enough to spread the leaking pre-cum, slicking it up a little.

Iolaus thrust into the tight grip, moaning when the fingers pulled away.

Stopping to straighten out the interconnected rings of leather, Ares began working the biggest one onto Iolaus’ shaft. It was a slow and agonising process. Each successive ring was smaller than the previous one, squeezing tighter and tighter as Iolaus’ erection continued to grow under Ares’ manipulating fingers. The final and smallest ring took the longest. Easing slowly, minutely, Ares worked the wide flared head of the hunter’s cock through and let the ring close snugly behind its lip.

“Much nicer,” Ares nodded, smoothing his thumb around the glistening cock head. “One more addition though, to finish it off.” Circling his thumb and forefinger around the base of Iolaus’ sac, Ares pulled with a slow and steady pressure, stretching the skin taut, forcing the balls away from the Gates and the painfully red cock they enclosed.

Iolaus struggled momentarily, but a single sharp threatening squeeze ended his rebellion as Ares snapped a wide leather ball stretcher around the base of his scrotum, effectively keeping his balls hostage. To Iolaus, it felt as though they were pulled as far away from his body as they could possibly be without ripping off. And still, his cock throbbed, as rigid as it was trapped.

Once again Ares stepped back, letting his heated gaze take in his handiwork. Wrists still chained securely over his head, Iolaus lay spread wantonly across the marble altar. Head throw back, eyes closed, his chest rose and fell with his ragged attempts at breathing around the phallus-gag. The clamps on his nipples caught the candlelight and a fine sheen of sweat glistened over his whole body as he writhed. Last to catch Ares’ eye was the long cock, squeezed into leather rings, it still rose defiantly to point toward the sky, trails of pre-cum dribbling down its sides.

Ares grinned, a wicked glint lighting his eyes, “Now we’re ready to play!”

Iolaus could only grunt behind his gag, twisting to the left and right, but unable to otherwise protest as Ares began to tug on and tweak the clamps biting into his nipples. The first sharp pain of the clamps had dulled to the soft throb of his heartbeat, echoing through his caged cock as well.

“First things first,” Ares muttered, eyes bright, “I think these are ready to come off.” With a single twist of the screw and a sharp tug on the clamp, the first nipple was freed.

Iolaus bucked wildly, shouting muffled curses around the gag. Fire burned through his chest as the blood rushed back into abused flesh. Ares’ fingers and lips continued to massage the battered nipple. Then, even as the knife-edge of pain eased into the slow burn of arousal, the second clamp was pulled free, sending a second wave of fire through the hunter’s entire body.

“Oh yeah,” Ares chuckled, curling his fist around Iolaus’ leather-bound erection, holding it steady while he lapped at the pre-cum drooling down the head. He looked up into Iolaus’ eyes, holding the bright blue gaze, “you’re loving this.”

Iolaus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the God’s knowing gaze, and even if he had not been gagged, he knew he’d never be able to convincingly deny the arousal his body had already made obvious.

“You know what you want, don’t you?” Ares asked, arching a brow in the bound man’s direction. He let his pre-cum slicked fingers slide lower.

Iolaus’ eyes drifted closed as, with a small whimper, he spread his legs, shifting his hips to provide Ares with easier access.

“That’s it,” Ares grinned. With a thunderclap and flash of blue lightning, the blonde was repositioned, invisible hands forcing his legs up, keeping his knees pressed back and open, almost to his chest. Ares rubbed his finger over Iolaus’ anus, massaging the puckered opening.

Iolaus squirmed, wriggling his ass against the probing digits, aching to be filled.

Ares slid the phallus slowly free of the blonde’s lips. “What do you say, mortal?”

Licking his lips, Iolaus couldn’t stop the groan that rumbled through his chest, “Oh Gods, please, Ares.”

“That’s not enough.” Sliding the leather phallus up and down Iolaus’ crack, Ares let it tease at his entrance with every pass. “Say the words, little man.” He held the phallus still, nudging it against the hunter’s anus. “Tell me what you need.”

“Please. I n-... I need more.” Iolaus writhed, trying futilely to push against the leather toy, but Ares kept it just out of reach. “Inside... more, please.”

“Not enough,” Ares growled. He leaned low over Iolaus, blowing gently across the head of the hunter’s trapped cock, at the same time, nudging the tip of the dildo into his anus, stretching it slightly before pulling away again. “Tell me.”

“Dammit, Ares, fuck me already!” Iolaus groaned, teeth gritted in frustration.

“What?!” Ares thundered. “You dare to make demands? To give orders to Ares, God of War?!”

“Ares-...”

“Silence, mortal!” Lightning flashed through the temple. “Your punishment will be swift and sure.” Centering the leather phallus on Iolaus’ tight entrance, Ares pushed, hard and fast.

Iolaus cried out, his anus burning from the friction at the same time as the dildo’s blunt end battered into his prostate, shooting a jolt of pure pleasure through his entire frame, leaving his cock even more painfully constricted.

“Hold it, right there,” Ares growled, giving the phallus a final, vicious twist.

Iolaus gasped for breath, assaulted by the contradictory sensations, both pleasure and pain, each in its own way adding to the fire that burned in his belly. The slightest movement of his body sparked new jolts of both, as his cock strained in its cage and the phallus shifted in his ass.

“Now, you’ll count.” Ares shook out the tresses of the flogger that flashed into his hand. Wide black suede lengths made up most of its body, with a few braided and knotted strands for an added bite.

“Wha- aaaah!” Iolaus’ question was lost in a wordless shout as the first sting of the lashes exploded across his ass, oddly in concert with the jolt of pleasure around the phallus as his entire body clenched under the blow.

A second blow landed. “You’re not counting,” Ares warned, bringing a third strike down onto Iolaus’ quivering ass.

“Gods!” Iolaus gritted, “t-three...”

“Oh no,” Ares grinned, his arm flying in a figure eight, landing a quick series of blows on either side of the shifting dildo as Iolaus writhed desperately under the flogger’s caress. “You start at the beginning... one comes first.”

Another blow, and Iolaus arched, gasping “One!” The throbbing heat in his ass at odds with the biting constriction around his aching cock and intermittent jolts of pleasure from the leather phallus as it dragged over his sweet spot each time he moved.

“Much better,” Ares nodded, laying another blow onto Iolaus’ already burning backside.

Iolaus shuddered, biting his lips to swallow a shout as the pleasure/pain lanced through him. “Two,” he gritted.

“Let’s see the toy dance,” Ares grinned, raining a series of quick strikes around the protruding end of the dildo.

“Th-three,” the blond gasped, “four, fi-five,” punctuating each echoing explosion of leather against flesh, as he writhed beneath the God’s flogging.

Ares paused, letting the soft suede tresses drape and tickle along Iolaus’ fiery red flesh. He wrapped his free hand around the phallus, twisting it and pumping it until the hunter was trembling in his bonds, a soft whimper his only sound.

“Sounds like someone’s feeling a little needy,” Ares chuckled. He leaned close, his mouth a fraction of an inch from Iolaus’ dripping cock, breathing his words across its head.

Iolaus’ cock jumped, the Gates squeezing more tightly around its shaft, as a long, drawn out groan rumbled through the hunter’s chest.

Extending his tongue, Ares ran it slowly up the caged erection’s length, cleaning the dribbling trails of pre-cum. He drew the wide, flared head into his mouth, flicking his tongue repeatedly across the slitted opening before letting the entire thing slip free.

Barely aware of Ares moving away, Iolaus was unprepared for the fire exploding across his ass as the flogger’s tresses slammed into him again. He arched with a cry, rigid in his bonds as the pain radiated out from his throbbing welts along every nerve ending, fingertips to toes.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Ares warned with a growl. “We can always start over....”

“No! Please, Ares,” Iolaus moaned, “uh... s-six?”

Another rapid succession of new welts was the God of War’s only response, and Iolaus continued his gasping count until, at twelve, the blows finally stopped. Iolaus sank limply into his bonds, panting with exhaustion, wetness spiking his eyelashes. His entire body throbbed with his pulse. He shifted, swallowing back a whimper, sure that every beat of his heart must be a visible ripple across his burning ass.

“Much better,” Ares murmured with a wide grin, smoothing his hands over the fiery red flesh of Iolaus’ ass. “Anything you have to say,” he pinched a particularly vivid welt, “mortal?”

Iolaus gasped, bucking under the fresh flash of pain.

Fire flashed in the War God’s eyes. “If the little boytoy hasn’t learned his lesson, I can repeat the instruction.” A sharp warning barehanded blow landed on Iolaus’ left cheek, momentarily chasing the bright red colour from his abused flesh.

“Please!” Iolaus gasped, arching as much as his tight bonds would allow.

Ares smiled, taking hold of the phallus still buried in Iolaus’ ass, twisting it leisurely as the smaller man writhed and moaned. “That’s right, mortal, you know what you need. Now beg for it.”

“Gods, Ares!” Iolaus gritted, his entire body throbbing, desperate to be filled. “Please!”

Ares held his silence, pulling the leather dildo back, letting it slip almost completely free of the hunter’s body.

Iolaus clenched his ass tight, writhing in his attempt to work the phallus back deeper inside. “Are-es,” he whimpered, “I need more... pleeeease.”

Without saying a word, the God of War pulled the toy completely free, tossing it aside. He slid his suddenly shining fist around his own cock, oiling it with long, smooth strokes until it stood, massive and erect, glistening in the flickering candlelight. He watched Iolaus, waiting.

Iolaus swallowed sharply. He had no fight, no resistance left, only the deep-seated aching need to feel that cock plow into him, split him in two, to hear Ares’ grunts of satisfaction mingling with his own cries of pleasure. “Please, Ares, I’m begging you,” Iolaus moaned, “please, I need you to fuck me, I need to feel your cock slam into me, I need you to pound me into your altar, Ares, please.”

“Much better,” Ares grinned. Grabbing onto Iolaus’ hips, bracing them still, Ares centered the wide, flared head of his cock at the blonde’s puckered entrance and pushed, forcing his way in to the hilt.

“Gods!” Iolaus screamed, teeth gritted against the pain of the too fast entry. Ares’ cock felt enormous, bigger than anything he’d ever taken before. He tried to swallow pat the lump in his throat, sure it must be the head of the War God’s cock pushing it’s way through.

“Nice”, Ares pulled back, his cock slipping almost entirely free.

“Again,” Iolaus gasped for breath, “please, more.”

“Oh, I’m far from finished, little man,” Ares growled, bracing the hunter’s hips as he thrust forward again.

Iolaus threw his head back with a cry as the massive cock plowed into him a second time, brushing across his prostate as it pushed deeper and deeper inside. He clenched his ass in mute protest as Ares pulled back again.

Ares grunted, pumping back in, Iolaus’ gasps of pleasure mingling with his own as he began a quick, pounding rhythm.

“So... close, so... close.” Iolaus’ head thrashed from side to side, the whispered mantra gasped in time with each battering thrust against his over-sensitized flesh.

With a triumphant growl, Ares shuddered, shooting his release deeply into Iolaus.

The hunter arched, gasping, but a sudden sharp tug on his tightly bound balls was enough to prevent his following Ares into orgasm. “No, Ares, please, don’t...”

“ARES!” The demigod’s thunderous roar echoed through the God’s temple, drowning out everything else. Heavy wooden doors flew outward, their stone archway crumbling as Hercules exploded into the room.

Ares looked casually up, never loosening his tight fisted grip on Iolaus’ hips. “Well, well, look who’s finally showed up. If it isn’t my bastard brother himself.” He flexed his grip, shifting his cock just enough to wring another moan from the blonde’s lips. “Come to rescue your little boytoy?”

“Get your fucking hands off my partner, before I break your neck, you son of a bitch.” Hercules raged.

“Sticks and stones, brother dear, sticks and stones.” Ares shook his head, lifting his hands out to wave at Hercules with a grin.

“Please,” Iolaus whimpered, writhing, still impaled on the God’s erection.

“Luckily for you,” Ares grinned, crossing his arms over his chest, “you’ve caught me in a very good mood.” He shifted again, and another groan sighed through Iolaus’ lips.

“Iolaus!” Hercules stepped closer, pressing against an invisible barrier around the pair at the altar. “Let him go, Ares, NOW!”

“I have a better idea.” Ares let his eyes wander slowly over Hercules, up and down, with a wicked suggestive leer. “You. Naked. On your knees. Submit to me, right here, right now. Or I send Iolaus to Hades.”

Eyes wide, Hercules swallowed, whispering, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Ares arched a brow, asking casually, “How many more times do you think Hades will let you have him back?”

Hercules stood stock still, never taking his eyes off of his partner. Tangled blond curls shook as Iolaus tugged at his bonds, still writhing on the stone altar, Ares’ cock buried deep inside his ass.

“Shall we find out?” Ares asked, holding one palm open as a ball of blue fire began to form.

“Ares, NO!” Hercules shouted, reaching helplessly for his partner.

The God of War turned to the demigod, bouncing the ball of pure energy idly in his hand. “You know my terms.”

Hercules dropped his head, staring at the floor, bright spots of colour flooding his cheeks. Slowly, methodically, he began removing his clothing. Finally, completely naked, he stepped forward, still never raising his eyes.

Sensing no resistance from the invisible barrier that had been between them earlier, Hercules walked steadily to Ares’ side, kneeling naked at the God’s feet.

Ares reached down, slipping a hand under the demigod’s chin to force the blue eyes up to meet his own. “Say it.”

Swallowing, Hercules looked up into the God of War’s gleeful grin, “I submit to you, Ares. Do with me what you will.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Ares leered. He stepped away from the altar, his cock slipping free from Iolaus’ ass as he did so, and the blonde’s plaintive whimpers echoed through the vaulted stone chamber. Ares ignored him, his attention focused on the demigod kneeling at his feet. “What’s this?” he nudged his foot under Hercules’ balls, pushing them up against his growing erection. “Rock hard already?”

Hercules shifted as he looked away, biting back the moan that filled his throat.

“Oh yeah, you want this bad, don’t you?” Ares tangled his fingers through Hercules’ honey brown hair, pulling his head back, forcing their eyes to meet once more. “You’ve been aching to crawl to me, haven’t you? To feel my cock stretch your ass to its limit?”

Iolaus groaned, writhing in his bonds. “Please, Ares!“ But the God ignored the desperate mortal.

“Aching to take your rightful place, kneeling at my feet? Serving my every need?”

Hercules’ cock jumped as a shuddering moan rippled through his chest. His eyes dropped to the massive cock directly in front of him. Glistening with the evidence of Ares’ recent climax inside Iolaus, it stood straight, already fully erect again, mute testament to the recuperative powers of a God. The strong musk of sex filled the air, and Hercules drew in a deep breath, as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips.

“If there’s something you need,” Ares grinned, arching a dark eyebrow, “all you have to do is... beg.”

“Fuck you, Ares!”

“It’s you that’s going to be fucked, Hercules.” Ares glowered, folding his arms across his chest. “Fucked until you howl. Fucked until you plead for mercy, and for more. I’ll fuck your throat and then I’ll fill your ass ‘til you pass out with the pleasure of it.” He cradled Hercules’ chin in a tight grip, holding his face steady. Then, making sure all the demigod’s attention was on his free hand, Ares swirled his finger around the flared head of his own erection.

A shudder rippled through Hercules’ entire body. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the teasing action of Ares’ finger, from the God’s cock, standing proud and angry red, shining in the flickering light. Without conscious thought, the demigod leaned closer, inhaling deeply. He swallowed as saliva filled his mouth. The musky sex scent was almost strong enough to taste. He swallowed again. Almost, but not quite. His tongue snaked out, wetting suddenly parched lips. He leaned closer.

“Say the words,” Ares murmured, keeping his cock just out of Hercules’ reach. “Say the words and it’s all yours.”

Hercules swallowed again, fighting the need to do exactly that, to beg on his knees for Ares attention and his cock. The throb in his own cock, the aching emptiness in his ass screamed to be filled. His body yearned to submit, to revel in being Ares’ plaything, but his mind balked. His pride resisted. Pride, and fear. Fear that once he submitted to Ares, once the God had claimed Hercules’ body as his own, he would have no resistance left. That he’d be crawling on his knees to Ares whenever the God of War crooked his finger.

“You try my patience, asshole,” Ares growled, a blue halo of light beginning to crackle around him. “Beg. Now. Or the boytoy dies.”

“No!”

Ares simply arched a brow in Hercules’ direction, waiting.

The demigod swallowed sharply, his chin dropping, his eyes drifting closed. “Ares, please.”

“Not good enough.” The crackle of light increased.

“No!” Hercules looked up, meeting the God’s eyes. Bright colour stained his cheeks. “Please, Ares, let me have your cock.”

“You can do better than that. Tell me what you want. What you need.”

“Let Iolaus go and I’ll do anything you ask,” Hercules finished in a rush. The words alone caused a flutter of excitement deep in his belly.

“You’ll do everything I command now. And if, when we’re done, I am satisfied with your performance, I might let the little mortal go.”

Hercules drew in a deep breath.

“I’m waiting. Last chance.”

Hercules licked his lips, lifting his eyes to meet Ares’ sharp gaze. “Please let me taste your cock... sir.” The last word was barely more than a whisper.

Ares grinned, nodding, “Go on.”

The demigod swallowed sharply. “Please, I want to lick it, and suck it. I want to feel the length and strength of it on my tongue, filling my mouth.”

“And?”

Hercules shuddered, his mind awash in mental images, his cock throbbing more with every word. “I want to feel your fists in my hair, holding me steady while you fuck my face. I want to taste your seed, as it fills my mouth.”

A long, drawn-out moan floated from the blond, twisting in his bonds on the altar, but both men ignored him, intent on each other.

“Please, Ares, let me suck you. I need to taste you.”

Ares nodded, stepping back slightly as Hercules leaned forward, forcing the demigod to shuffle forward on his knees, seeking the cock just out of the reach of his stretching tongue.

“No hands,” he warned.

Hercules’ fingers curled into fists as he lowered them to his sides. Extending the full length of his tongue, he lapped, slowly, gingerly, at the tip of Ares’ cock, flicking his tongue across the slitted opening. The salty-sweet tang that had been teasing at his nostrils finally exploded across his tongue, and with a quickly swallowed slurp of satisfaction, Hercules leaned closer, drawing the entire flared crown into his mouth.

Ares’ head fell back with a groan, his eyes slipping closed. His fingers tangled through the demigod’s hair, holding him in a tight-fisted grip as he began to pump his hips.

Hercules struggled for air as the massive cock pushed into the back of his throat, the mouth-watering flavour of its essence lost to his body’s screaming demand for oxygen. The cock pulled back, and Hercules sputtered, gasping in a quick breath before it pushed its way back in, farther this time.

A rhythm was soon established, Hercules matching his breathing and swallowing to the relentless pace of the cock thrusting into his mouth, freeing his mind to savour the sensations. Each slide of hard flesh across his lips, each grunt from Ares and echoing whimper from his bound partner, each blended trickle of pre-cum and saliva that slid down his throat served to increase Hercules’ own arousal until his cock was left rock hard, bouncing against his belly.

A wordless growl from Ares was the only warning signal he gave. His grip tightened in Hercules’ hair as he shuddered, pumping frantically into the mouth that surrounded his cock.

The salty tang exploded across his tongue as Hercules slurped and swallowed, gulping repeatedly in a futile attempt to keep up with the geyser of cum overflowing from his mouth, dribbling down his chin. He felt light-headed, whether from the limited oxygen or the divine essence shooting down his throat, he wasn’t sure. He reached out to steady himself, bracing a hand on Ares’ thigh, as the God continued to pump his hips.

With a final guttural groan, Ares finished, pulling free as he pushed the demigod away.

Hercules fell back onto his heels, drawing in great gasps of air. His scalp still tingled where the God of War had tangled his fists; the moisture dribbling down his chin was cooling fast, leaving wet, sticky trails in its wake, but all his attention was riveted on his painfully throbbing erection as it arched, leaving its own sticky trails along his belly.

Ares grinned at the kneeling demigod. “We’ll get to that,” he chuckled, “later. Right now, the boytoy needs some attention.” He slid a hand along Iolaus’ writhing thigh. “Don’t you, pet?”

Iolaus whimpered as a shudder rippled through his entire frame. “Please Ares, oh Gods above, please!”

“Easy, mortal,” Ares murmured, “you’ll get what’s coming to you soon enough.”

With a snap of the God’s fingers, Iolaus was completely rearranged to lay bent across the altar, chest and belly against the smooth stone, feet on the floor. His legs were braced widely apart and his ass waved invitingly in the air as his cock, still bound tightly in the Gates and flushed deep red, swung between his thighs.

Hercules could not help but stare at the smooth, rounded globes of his partner’s ass as they clenched and shifted, right in front of him. His eyes traced each of the glowing red, criss-crossed welts from some sort of flogger, always drifting back to the pucker in the shadow of Iolaus’ cleft.

Gaping still from the rough fucking he’d had earlier, clenching occasionally around emptiness as the hunter shifted his hips, even Iolaus’ anus was swollen and red. Trickling dribbles of semen began to inch along, following gravity’s pull downward, leaving glistening trails down Iolaus’ thighs, along the length of his scrotum.

Saliva filled Hercules’ mouth, pooling on his tongue until he was forced to swallow.

“On your feet,” Ares nudged at the kneeling demigod.

Hercules stood, feet braced apart, hands clasped behind his back, never once dragging his eyes from the smooth expanse of his partner’s flesh.

Ares grinned, a sly, suggestive leer as he pushed at Hercules’ shoulders, bending him at the waist. “Clean him up.”

Needing no second invitation, Hercules dived forward, wrapping one large hand around each trembling thigh as he plunged his tongue into Iolaus’ cleft. Sparing little thought for the target he was presenting to Ares of his own upthrust ass, he licked and slurped at the sticky trails on Iolaus’ skin. He sucked the tight balls into his mouth one at a time, rolling them on his tongue, scraping them lightly with his teeth.

Iolaus shuddered, his knees buckling, only the altar and Hercules’ tight grip keeping him steady. “Herc, I can’t... oh Gods!”

Lost in the intoxicating combination of tasting both Ares and Iolaus, the demigod paid no attention to the gasped whimpers, only burrowing deeper into Iolaus’ cleft, seeking out every drop of the divine essence the God of War had left behind.

The whistling air barely registered in Hercules’ ear before an explosion of force pushed his face deeper against Iolaus and a jolt of fire spread, along with the bright red paddle mark, across his ass.

“Don’t let him come yet,” Ares warned, punctuating it with another heavy slap of wood on flesh.

“Yes, sir,” Hercules grunted, tugging sharply on the hunter’s bound balls, before resuming his tongue bathing.

“You want to fuck him, don’t you?” Ares murmured softly, landing another resounding thwack on the demigod’s reddening ass. “You want to bury your cock in his ass and feel it clench around you as you pound him into that marble slab.”

The renewed trembling in Iolaus’ limbs, the way his anus clenched around Hercules’ tongue, both were mute testament to the effect of Ares’ words on his partner, but the words stuck in Hercules’ throat.

Another blow landed as Ares continued relentlessly, “You want to ream his ass until he screams your name, begging you to let him come.”

Hercules groaned, his cock throbbing more with each word, his belly tightening as he imagined doing exactly as Ares said. He could almost feel the smooth heat surrounding his cock, the tight squeeze of fucking Iolaus’ luscious ass. With his mind’s eye he saw Iolaus shudder and buck under him. He could almost hear the throaty pleading in Iolaus’ voice as he gasped, “Herc, please! Oh Gods, Herc!”

“Herc!”

The demigod blinked, realising that that quavering raspy voice was real. Iolaus writhed and moaned right in front of him, desperate, needy, wanting. All it would take was...

“Say it, bro,” Ares leaned close, breathing the words against the demigod’s ear, “say the words and his ass is yours.”

Hercules drew in a sharp breath, his eyes glued to his partner. “Yes, Ares,” he exploded, “Gods, yes!! I want to fuck him.”

Iolaus shuddered, lifting his ass in mute invitation.

“I want to stretch his ass to its limit with my cock. I want to hear him scream my name, and beg for more. I want to fuck him so hard and so deep that he’ll never need anyone else again.” He turned to Iolaus, his voice lowering to quiet promise. “I want to make him mine, forever.”

One last heavy thwack stung against Hercules’ ass. Ares chuckled, holding out a small vial of oil. “Very good. Now, here’s the thing,” a wicked glint lit his eyes, “there’s enough oil here for one cock. You decide. Who gets the smooth ride?” He placed the vial into Hercules’ hand.

Hercules didn’t hesitate, taking the oil and working it over his own cock. Ares had plenty of pre-cum and Hercules’ own saliva still coating his erection. Besides, difficult as it was to admit, even to himself, he wanted to feel every inch of the God of War as Ares rammed his way in.

Hercules turned to face his partner, hesitant hands hovering over the blonde’s hips. “Iolaus?”

“Fuck me already!” Iolaus burst out.

The desperate demand burned through his bloodstream, straight to the demigod’s already erect shaft. His cock bounced against his belly, his body eager to comply with his partner’s command.

Taking Iolaus’ hip in a firm grip, Hercules steadied his cock, pressing its head against the small puckered opening nestled between the globes of his partner’s ass. Keeping his eyes tightly focussed on the juncture of their straining flesh, Hercules leaned forward, easing his sizable erection into the stretched hole, still slick with Ares’ previous climax.

His gasp was echoed by a short cry from Iolaus, as his cock’s widely flared head slid through, pushing past the tight ring of muscle guarding the blonde’s entrance. Eyes glued to the connection where his shaft disappeared into his partner’s body, Hercules swallowed, unsure which stirred his blood more, the smooth heat of Iolaus’ body around his aching cock, the throaty rasp of his name whimpered in Iolaus’ voice, or the trembling of blond curls as Iolaus writhed, impaled on Hercules’ erection.

“Herc, please,” Iolaus whispered, clenching around the demigod’s cock.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Ares gloated, his whisper warm against Hercules’ ear. “So sweet, so tight. There’s nothing quite like fucking the little boytoy, is there?”

Hercules only groaned softly, slowly pushing his way deeper into Iolaus, his bruising grip holding his partner in place, forcing him to be still and accept the frustrating pace. Finally, buried balls deep, he paused, drawing in a deep breath, savouring the sensation, the slick, tight heat surrounding him, squeezing around his full length.

He bent over Iolaus, nibbling at the smaller man’s nape, kissing along his spine. Releasing his hold on one hip, Hercules dug his fingers into his partner’s golden curls, pulling Iolaus’ head back sharply. “You’re mine now,” he growled, his teeth sharp against the tanned column of Iolaus’ throat, marking it, staking his claim.

“Then, fuck me, Herc, damn you! MOVE!” Iolaus gritted between clenched teeth.

“Yes,” Ares agreed, settling himself between Hercules’ legs, pressing the knob of his imposing erection snugly against the demigod’s tightly puckered opening, “fuck him.”

Hercules groaned, but the God made no move, standing steady. Iolaus whimpered and squirmed beneath him, desperate for more. Drawing in a deep breath, Hercules shifted his weight, pulling back, dragging his cock free of Iolaus’ tight heat, every fraction of an inch that he pulled away impaling him further onto the God of War.

A deep vibrating moan shuddered up from the demigod’s chest. I guess this is what you’d call being caught between a cock and a hot place, he chuckled to himself, rolling his eyes at the joke worthy of Iolaus’ sense of humor.

With only the crown of his own erection still buried inside Iolaus, and Ares’ full length filling his own ass, Hercules paused, then shifted direction, thrusting forward again. The sweet heat of Iolaus’ ass around him, combined with the drag of Ares’ cock across his prostate, was almost more than the demigod could stand and still remain conscious.

Again, he reversed direction. Iolaus’ muscles clenched around him as Hercules pulled back, milking the demigod’s erection, at the same time as Hercules impaled himself on Ares’ cock, stretching himself around the thick shaft.

The twin sensations stoked the fire burning inside him, and Hercules could only pick up the pace, pumping in and out, faster and faster, grunting, gasping pleasure sounds beginning to wring from all three throats.

He reached his arm around Iolaus’ waist, searching for the hunter’s erection. His fingers encountered hard heat, still strapped tight in leather, wet and dripping with sticky moisture.

“Hurts,” Iolaus gasped, “Herc, don’t.” Another groan, pure pleasure this time, as Hercules bucked again, nudging across his partner’s prostate.

“Ares, can’t he-...” Hercules grunted as Ares gripped his hips and began to pump, pushing him even deeper into Iolaus.

“Yes, he can,” Ares gritted between his teeth, as with a short snap of his fingers, the Gates vanished, leaving Iolaus’ cock free, his balls unfettered.

That was all it took. With a shout of completion, Iolaus shuddered and bucked, shooting his orgasm across the side of Ares’ altar. Caught up in the throes of his partner’s climax, Hercules soon followed. Thrusting one last time, then arching his neck and gasping Iolaus’ name, he collapsed onto his partner’s back, pumping his seed deep.

Ares bucked against Hercules as he thrashed and gasped, his hard cock pushing repeatedly against the demigod’s battered prostate. Hercules heard a sharp growl from Ares at the same moment that he felt the first jet of the God’s climax shoot inside him.

In moments, all three men had slipped to a crumpled heap of tangled limbs on the marble floor.

Ares pulled away first, settling himself back against the altar. Iolaus rested content and barely conscious, his head cradled on Hercules’ chest, one arm draped across his ribs, his cock, finally lax, lay softly against Hercules’ hip. The demigod absently trailed one hand back and forth along Iolaus’ arm, while the fingers of the other gently combed through tousled curls.

Ares looked around the room. Stone rubble and the splintered remains of the heavy doors littered the floor. “A bit of a melodramatic entrance don’t you think?” he arched a brow at Hercules.

The demigod grinned with a quick shrug, careful not to dislodge his partner’s head from its resting place. “Didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“And who’s going to repair my Temple?” A bit of the thunder of Ares’ God-voice rumbled through the room, as he scowled at the other two.

Iolaus raised his head, lifting heavy eyelids. He grinned at Hercules.

The demigod grinned back.

They turned twin looks of exasperated humor on the God of War.

Ares shrugged, “Fine,” and with a begrudging snap of his fingers, the Temple was immediately restored to its former glory.

Iolaus yawned, stretching out a few kinks before settling back into his partner’s welcoming arms. “Next time,” he muttered with a glare at Ares, “you bottom.”