The Love of War

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of the characters that I’m messing with except Jessie. They belong to Renaissance Pictures and USA studios. I’m writing for smutty minded readers everywhere. And, because my roommate and sister nagged and pushed me until I sat in front of the keyboard and started writing. Thanks guys.

WARNING: Slash ahead with a ménage a tois probably in the next chapter or the one after that. If this isn’t your type of thing, don’t finish my story. Also, the whole incestuous nature of the Olympians might squik you out a bit, but it’s not like they have to worry about birth defects.

The Love of War, Chapter 14


Cupid was seldom caught by surprise anymore. Being caught by surprise was not a good thing when you were the God of War. It showed a certain lack of preparedness and that was never a good thing in a commander. Since attaining his majority and assuming the full mantle of his responsibilities, Cupid had projected an image of the god who was ready for anything that the cosmos threw at him. And, so far, he *had* adapted and overcame every situation that had come along (except for the fact that his ex wife was still among the living, and he was working on that). And, those few times that he had been surprised, he’d still projected an air of battle readiness that had never failed him.

Also, he was used to the fact that he was wanted by mortals, god, and demigods. Both of his parents were among the most beautiful beings in creation. So, he had taken full advantage of the variety of lovers that had thrown themselves into his path. He had learned enough from his father to never leave a lover wanting, so he never had. He had taken pride in his conquests, both martial and amorous.

When presented with something he wanted, he’d plot, plan, and strategize until he got it. The mortal that was lying almost comatose in his bed was a good example, even if she had yet to pledge herself to him. The city walls had been breached, the territory had been looted and pillaged, but complete surrender hadn’t occurred.

Jessie wasn’t quite a conquest- yet. But unlike a city, she could be pillaged again and again.

The God of War was a little nonplused, however, by the lap full of Joy that he currently had. Strife was cradling his head and kissing him like the Twilight was coming tomorrow and they had only one night left. More importantly, Cupid’s first impulse was not to push the other god off his thighs, it was to wrap his arms around him and crush the wiry, white clad, god-who-got-green-at-the-sight-of-a-papyrus-cut to his chest and take his mouth hard.

And judging from the bulge that was currently rubbing against his stomach, Strife wouldn’t mind a bit if he did. Cupid gripped his armrests tightly. Okay. Assess the situation; Strife had sought him out, come into his study, plopped himself on Cupid’s lap and was seeking out every little nook and cranny of his teeth. The God of Joy also had what felt like an olive branch lodged in his trousers and it was apparently for him. The dream he’d had a few days ago flashed into his eyes and he realized now that that little fantasy could become a reality. Jessie couldn’t say no, at least for the next six days, and he didn’t think that Strife *would* say no, not if he’d come to the House of War himself and attacked Cupid’s tonsils with his tongue. The God of War started to get hard.

“Is that a mace in your breeches, or am I doing something right?” Strife lifted his mouth to ask, while shifting his buttocks to rub against the ‘mace’. Cupid tasted just how he’d imagined. Not sweet, but strong and spicy. He wasn’t actively participating, but he wasn’t trying to maim him either.

“Both, actually,” Cupid said with a raised eyebrow. Strife was looking at him with those pale blue eyes and his mouth was swollen from their kiss. It looked good on him.

Strife frowned and then let one of his arms drop and felt around the side of the chair until his fingers brushed against something metal. He looked down and then peeped up through his eyelashes.

“You’re not going to need *that* mace.” He told him. He nudged it and there was a dull clang as it hit the carpeted marble.

“Really?” Cupid was amused.

“Yeah, really,” Strife brought their mouths together again. “At least, you won’t need it right now.” The subtle rasps from the thin lines of beard felt *so* good against his own smooth cheeks, every brush was erotic. He let his hands wander down to Cupid’s exposed chest. It felt so smooth and hard under his fingers. He found hard nipples under the leather vest and started to rub them with his thumbs. He nibbled his way along the God of War’s jaw to his earlobe to give it a sharp nip. He felt Cupid jerk under him.

Cupid was a little surprised at Strife’s aggression. It was so out of character for him, but it felt really good. What had brought this on? Not that he was complaining, exactly. But his cousin had had centuries to make a move, why now? Maybe the God of Joy had been waiting for him to make the first move? Mmm, that felt good. He was soothing that nip with a tongue bath to his ear. But *what* had brought this on? Strife was not known for his aggressive tendencies. He was known for the opposite.

Zeus’ balls! Why was he trying to analyze this now?!

Cupid took control. As flattering and surprising as it was for Strife to take an aggressive approach in their dealings, it just wasn’t in Cupid to remain passive. He loosed his hands from the grip that he’d kept on the armrests and grabbed Strife’s head to bring that talented mouth back to his. Then he turned the other god so that Strife was straddling his lap. He grabbed Strife’s waist and made some minute adjustments to his position so that their cocks were rubbing against each other. Then he reached between their bodies to jerk open the other god’s vest.

Strife was floating in a pleasurable haze, feeling Cupid’s mouth against his own and when the God of War took control of the situation, he felt like they were in the Elysian Fields. Not only was Cupid not trying to kill him for finding him attractive, the hard swell of the War god’s cock was grinding against his own. He was actually going for it!

He was really going for it. Strife felt Cupid reach around him and sweep the maps off his desk. Then he stripped the cream colored leather vest down his arms and tossed it away. Strife fumbled for the side lacings on Cupid’s vest as he was bent backward onto the desk’s cool surface. The difference of the desk’s temperature and his own heated flesh made him gasp. Cupid took ruthless advantage of his wider opened mouth to kiss him all the harder. The lacings were resisting his fumbling fingers as the gorgeous blond deity above pinned him against the furniture. Cupid rose off of him to strip off the vest that was defeating his own attempts, and when Strife started to rise to help him, the other god placed a hand in the center of his chest to prevent his movement. Strife retaliated by curving his legs around Cupid’s waist. He wasn’t going to stay passive in this.

Cupid paused to enjoy the sight of the God of Joy hard and waiting for him. Strife was a little more muscular than he’d thought under that prissy color. And the bulge in his breeches was impressive. Strife’s pale skin stood out starkly against the ebony of his desk and the other god was looking up at him with a hungry expression in his pale blue eyes. His own tan skin looked browner against the creamy expanse of deity under him. When he leaned down to nibble Strife’s chest, he found that the peachy nipples of Joy were *very* sensitive. As sensitive as Jessie’s were when he had the mortal panting under him.

He toyed with those nipples for a few moments while Strife writhed. The other god’s booted heels were digging into his ass, while Strife arched under him. He could just blink their clothes off, but it was fun to draw the anticipation. Strife was already hard and hungry for him, making him wait would be so much more fun. And, it was a way to make the other god pay a little for startling him.

Cupid caught Strife’s gaze and with slow deliberation, started to untie the lacings on his breeches. Strife stared hungrily as Cupid’s black leather parted and his flesh rose out of its confinement.

Strife came up on his elbows and licked his lips. This was turning out so much better than he’d planned. Not only was Cupid receptive, but it didn’t look like they were even going to make it out of the study before they went at it. Stars, that cock was as gorgeous as the rest of him. Strife knew that he wasn’t patient enough to do a slow striptease himself, so he just flashed his own boots and breeches off. Cupid kept his on, but unlaced.

Cupid felt a hungry smile spread itself across his face. Strife had an impressive organ that was bobbing and weaving in the air. Strife came up off the desk and grabbed Cupid for another hard kiss. Now their cocks slid along each other without the leather interfering. Strife slid a hand between them and grasped Cupid cock and started to slowly pump. Cupid broke off their kiss with a low growl and reciprocated. They kept an incredibly intimate eye to eye contact while they stroked each other.

Strife didn’t bother to try to muffle his moans when Cupid gripped his cock with those sword calloused hands. The God of War was standing between his spread thighs and he was naked. Several thousand nights of fantasies flashed through his mind and none of them came close to the actual feeling of the Champion of Olympus’ hands on him. He gave a plaintive moan when Cupid’s hand left him.

Cupid kept eye to eye contact as he pushed Strife backward until the other god was once again lying on his desk. He started to pluck at those responsive nipples and felt Strife’s legs tighten around him. He leaned over to nip and lave that pale throat. Strife’s fingers thrust into his hair to cradle Cupid’s head against him. The God of Joy’s hips started to rock.

“Is there something that you want?” He murmured against the pale throat.

“Yeah, I want you to fuck me.” Strife gasped. The bump and slide of their cocks together was driving him crazy.

“Oh, really,” he chuckled. “I would have never guessed, what with you plopping yourself on my lap and trying to swallow my tongue.”

“Cupid, come on,” Strife groaned. “I’m dying here.”

“You can’t die, you’re immortal.” Cupid pointed out.

“Well, it feels like I’m dying. I want you inside me!”

“You want this?” He gave a sharp bump of his hips and their cocks ground against each other hard. Strife gasped and arched.

“Cupid, I’ve wanted you inside for a *very* long time. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”

“Well then, lube me up.”

Strife flashed some almond oil into his hand and stroked Cupid’s cock. The tendons on his lover’s neck started to stand out as Cupid gritted his teeth. Well, good. The other god had enjoyed teasing him too much. Besides, this was supposed to be *his* seduction scene. He shouldn’t be the only one panting, the War God deserved to too. He’d just get a little of his own back. He ghosted a very delicate touch down the ridge at the same time he nipped Cupid’s throat.

A growl worthy of Greagus tore out of Cupid’s throat. Strife was suddenly pinned to the desk with his heels in the air. At the hungry look in the other male’s eyes, Strife took a second to prepare his own body with a little oil. It was a good thing too; it didn’t look like Cupid was going to think of it himself. In fact, the God of War looked a little crazed. It didn’t look like Cupid was even going to finish getting out of his clothes before he fucked Strife.

Oh, good.

Cupid gritted his teeth when he slid the head of his cock into Strife’s ass. He was so *tight*. He deliberately caught the gaze of those pale blue eyes as he slid a little farther. He withdrew a little and smiled when Joy groan an inarticulate protest at the movement. The groan turned into a breathless sigh when Cupid reversed and slid in a little farther. He could feel that the other god wanted draw his legs from his shoulders and wrap them around his waist, but Cupid kept them up and high as he slid the last inch home.

Strife groaned another little protest when Cupid refused to move and just stood there, letting his cock enjoy the tightness of the other male’s ass. Strife wiggled his butt in protest at the lack of movement.

“Cupid! Come on, move it.”

“You can still form sentences, I must not be doing something right,” Cupid mused.

He withdrew and with aching slowness, slid in again. Strife tried to dig his heels into Cupid’s shoulders, but he couldn’t get the leverage. Cupid raised the other god’s hips off the desk and rocked gently back and forth; keeping Strife’s shoulders braced on the desk and leaving him helpless to do anything but twist and moan. He gently picked up the pace when he knew that the other male wanted him to just start pounding. Strife bucked and twisted, trying desperately to get more friction, but Cupid wasn’t allowing it. The God of Joy could just take it the way that Cupid wanted to give it to him. And for now, that was slow and easy to drive the black haired beauty under him crazy.

Strife tried to grip his own cock, but Cupid knocked the hand away and pulled almost all the way out in retaliation. Strife groaned and tried to grip the sides of the desk, but they were just a little out of reach. When had he lost control of the situation? He couldn’t get any leverage and Cupid was taking a slow, deliberate action that left Strife helpless to do anything but lie there and take it.

Great Gaia, this felt so *good*. He had waited for such a long time to feel Cupid filling him like this and it was incredible. Now, if he could only get Blonde and Deadly to put some wiggle in it-

Cupid thought some oil into his hand and starting stroking Strife’s cock in time with his thrusts. He let Strife’s hips fall back onto the desk so that he could brace his legs and start to pound. Strife gave an inarticulate cry of almost relief at the first sharp stroke. The cries turned to moans as the sensations of Cupid’s hands and cock possessing him. Strife tossed his head back and forth before he focused enough to try to grab Cupid’s head and bring it down for a kiss. Cupid grinned at the puny attempt and kept Strife’s heels in the air for a deeper angled penetration. Cupid twisted his hand a little as he stroked Strife’s cock, keeping his hand oil-slick and the friction gentle enough to drive the other male crazy.

It was working. Strife’s hoarse shouts were filling the room and his body was tightening around Cupid’s. Then, one of Strife’s feet brushed the top of one of his wings and the feathers tickled the soles of his feet. Strife ticklish giggle and squirm caused him to clamp down harder on Cupid’s cock. The God of War shuddered and tightened the hand grip around his lover’s cock and stroked it with a firmer grip. Cupid felt Strife’s balls tighten as the god under started to climax. Strife’s ankles locked around Cupid’s neck as his climax spilled all over his stomach. Cupid allowed Strife’s limp legs to fall from his shoulders.

Cupid grinned as he continued to pound for another minute. One of the differences between having a male and a female lover was that with a female, he could generally keep them climaxing. If you had a woman that came from penetration, you could extend the orgasm by continuing to thrust. With a male, however, once they came, it took them a little longer to get excited again. Being descended from the God of Love did have some advantages, though; he could bring his lover back to hardness with very little effort. In fact, since Strife was a child of Love himself, it probably wouldn’t take any effort at all. But the God of Joy looked like he could use a post-fuck cuddle, so Cupid allowed his own orgasm to overtake him and came down onto his elbows over his newest lover.

It ripped through him and caused him to gasp while his hips jerked. His toes curled in his boots and he could feel the sweat on his legs making his leather breeches slippery. Damn, that had felt good. Emptying himself into Strife had felt so natural. Next time though, he’d take off all of his clothes. He bet that Strife had appreciated the extra textures.

Strife locked eyes with the god above him. It was incredibly intimate to have Cupid still inside of him and slightly panting from effort. War didn’t look that winded, though. Strife wished passionately that he’d been able to stave off his climax, just so he could continue to feel Cupid bringing him off. But the reality of Cupid’s cock and hands finally touching him after centuries of fantasies had been too much. He made a small noise of disappointment when he felt the other god move, but it wasn’t to withdraw; at least not completely. Cupid scooped him off the desk and fell backward onto his chair, tucking Strife’s head into his shoulder and rubbing a soothing hand down his flank.

“How come your hands have sword calluses? You’re a god, it’s not like you need them.” Strife asked in an idle tone.

“It reassures my warriors, gives me something in common with them.”

“Ah.” He snuggled his cheek into the hard muscle under it.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?”

“I didn’t want to lose all of your attention to another mortal.”

“Strife, I don’t fall for *every* mortal that I bed,” Cupid sounded uncharacteristically defensive.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to take the chance. Especially since Jessie is even more intriguing then Psyche ever was.” He felt Cupid stiffen under him and not in a good way.

“You find my mortal intriguing?”

“Calm down Big Bad,” Strife playfully nipped Cupid’s collarbone. “I’m in *your* lap aren’t I?”

“Yes, yes you are,” Cupid squeezed one taunt buttock and relaxed.

“I would just like to point out that Jessie looks like a marvelous handful and I want some claim on your attention too.”

“You’re reading a lot into one encounter on the desk.”

“It gets better,” Strife leaned away so that he could meet Cupid’s eyes again.

“Oh, really,” Cupid’s eyebrows rose.

“Yeah, you haven’t lived with your dad since you assumed your Mantle. Whereas I, on the other hand, have been living in the House of Love for centuries and you wouldn’t believe the kind of training I’ve had.” Strife sounded really smug.

“You sound pretty confident.”

“What, you don’t think that Mom and Unc do all of their own ‘field testing’, do you?”

Ares was sprawled in his favorite chair and had a cup of ambrosia in one hand and an apple in the other when his twin flashed into the room. Her diaphanous gown swirled around her and she was almost bouncing with suppressed energy.

Whooh, if she had to hold it in much longer she might burst.

“Why Eris, whatever is the matter?” Ares made the effort to sound just like Aphrodite at her prissiest and somehow managed it with a mouthful of apple. He could barely restrain his grin at the face that Eris made.

“Come on ‘Res! You have to be getting the same buzz that I am from
Aggression Central, and I just peeped in on the mortal and she’s dead to the world. Is it my boy?! Please tell me it’s my boy.” Eris looked like a kid begging for a honey cake, not like a mother asking after her son’s sexual activities.

“Sis, you probably shouldn’t be referring to Jessie as ‘the mortal’ since she’s going to be a permanent fixture around here.” Ares pointed out, washing down the apple with a sip from his cup.

“Okay, I just saw *Jessie* and she was sleeping so deeply that I could paint her purple and she wouldn’t notice.” Eris wasn’t going to argue.

“You know, with those edible body paints, that might not be a bad idea. I t might make for a nice surprise and all-“

“ARES!” the Goddess of Love shrieked. Eris was known for many things-patience wasn’t one of them. She couldn’t find Strife anywhere and lust was coming out in waves from the black marble temple of her nephew.

The senior God of Love grinned. She was so cute when she was impatient.

“I sent Strife over there about half an hour ago,” he relented.

“Yes!!” Eris raised both of her fists in the air and twirled in place.

“It’s just a beginning, Sis.” He cautioned. Cupid could be a real bastard some times and Strife might still come out of this with a broken heart. Since he was the God of Joy that would not be a good thing for Earth; a heartbroken Joy would probably seriously up the suicide rates with mortals. Little brother Apollo would probably pout at the extra work that would involve.

“Yeah, but it *is* a beginning,” Eris hugged herself. “They’re not stuck in stalemate anymore.”

“Nope, there’s nothing ‘stale’ about what’s going on over there at all; plenty of ‘mating’, though.”


Strife knew his cousin pretty well. He knew that Cupid was a bloodthirsty bastard and one sneaky son of a Bacchae. Also, he knew that his cousin tended to lose interest in things once he’d attained them. The trick was to keep him interested. The whole ‘field testing’ bit would probably intrigue and arouse the God of War. He’d better keep Blonde and Deadly intrigued if he wanted to last.

He didn’t want to get up, but he knew that he had to at least make the attempt if he was going to keep Cupid’s attention. This felt really good, though. It had been a long time since someone cuddled him after lovemaking. Usually, he was the ‘cuddler’, not the ‘cuddlee’.

He placed a tender, but slightly dismissive kiss in the center of the hard chest he was leaning against. Then, he cleaned them both with a thought.

“Well, I need to get back to work,” he pretended to sigh. He stirred off the hard muscled lap he was sitting on and made like he needed to get up. “We can ‘field test’ some more positions later, huh?”

Cupid blinked. Then, his eyes narrowed. Where did he think that he was going? What, a quickie and Strife thought that he was going to leave? Smack him upside the head with some sex and he thought that he was going to bop off to earth? He curled an arm around Strife’s lean waist and clamped down with firm strength.

“I don’t think that we’re done yet.” He remarked, nuzzling the pale throat.

“Cupid, I really do need to get back to work,” Strife brushed a kiss across his mouth and started to squirm off his lap. He wondered if he would even make it to the door. Then Cupid ran a caressing hand down his flank. Holy Hades in a sunny chariot, would he even make it to the other side of the desk?

His mental question was almost immediately answered by a pair of calloused hands clamping down on his hips. Nope, not even to the other side of the desk.

“I think that you need to be in a properly ‘joyous’ frame of mind before you go back to work.” Cupid settled Strife back into his lap and took a firm but gentle hold on Strife’s cock.

Strife tried to strangle a gasp in the back of his throat, but it escaped. Who knew that sword calloused hands could feel so good? Then he thought of all the lovers he had seen go in and out of Cupid’s bed and barely repressed a snort. A lot more people then he’d like.

But, they weren’t here now, he was. He was here, and it looked like he had Cupid’s complete attention. He knew, he knew that being the focus of his attention would be wonderful, but he hadn’t thought that it would be addictive. Now, his lover was giving him more of what he craved in long, firm, strokes. Something else was getting firm under his buttocks.

“Are you feeling joyous yet?” Cupid purred.

“Slightly cheerful,” Strife grinned. He shifted so that he could run both hands down Cupid’s muscled torso.

Cupid shifted the god further so that Strife was straddling his lap. Strife’s cock bumped against his torso while his own slid along the crease of Strife’s butt.

“How about now?” he inquired.

“Minimally gleeful,” Strife licked at the lips of War. Then, he brought their mouths together into a firm, deep kiss.

Cupid remembered how sensitive Strife’s nipples were and circled his thumbs over and over them. Strife’s breath hitched in a very satisfying way. Then he lifted the other god up and brought him back down, sheathing himself in Joy once again. Strife leaned back so that every thrust ran over his prostate. Cupid grinned and circled his hips as he brought Strife down again.

“How about now,” he asked.

“Partially happy,” Strife gasped. Damn, that felt good.

Cupid grinned at the implicit challenge of Strife’s words. He loved challenges and the god on his lap was going to enjoy this challenge too. In fact, when Joy left this temple, his voice was going to be hoarse from enjoying this challenge. He leaned Strife so that his back was resting against the edge of the desk, then he leaned forward and rubbed his beard against Strife’s sensitive nipples. Strife groaned and writhed, making the friction exquisite for both of them. Cupid took a second to mentally send his breeches back to the bedroom so that this time the two of them would have full skin on skin contact. Strife gave another happy moan at the new sensation.

Strife tried to thrash in Cupid’s grip, but War was strong, even for a god and kept Strife right where he wanted him. Dancing Dryads, this felt better than any fantasy he’d ever had! He was getting beard burn all over his chest and throat, and he loved it. Now, it was time to get Blonde and Deadly a little more interested.

He gripped Cupid’s head and brought it up for a long and intense kiss while pushing so that Cupid’s back was once again flush against the back of the chair. Cupid responded with naked hunger and allowed the movement. Strife finally broke the kiss and nipped his was along that bearded jaw line until he got to the ear lobe. As he licked and nibbled the soft flesh, he heard Cupid groan out loud. It seemed that the God of War loved having his ear nibbled. Strife smiled against side of his neck when he felt calloused hands tighten around his waist. Oh, goody! He was going to have bruises. Strife felt his cock rub against washboard abs in a delightful friction all of its own. He bit down deliberately on the muscle between Cupid’s neck and shoulder at the same time he deliberately tightened his lower muscles around Cupid’s cock.

Cupid gave a strangled shout under him and he bucked. Those incredible green eyes looked up at him with shock and then determination. Then those calloused hands were suddenly oily and gripped Strife’s cock with tender ferocity. He leaned over and bit at Strife’s nipples while rubbing the oil on his own stomach and Strife’s cock. Cupid pounded up like he was trying to launch Strife into the ceiling. He brought Strife flush against him so that Joy’s aching hardness was trapped between them. The two of them writhed together until Strife felt a warbling scream tear out of his throat and a harsh groan sounded against his throat where Cupid’s head rested.

Strife felt the tip of Cupid’s wing brush against the top of his foot and he could also feel the sweat and cum drying on both of them. He let Cupid see his grin as he shook his sweat soaked hair from his eyes.

“Okay,” he panted. “I think that I’m feeling ‘joyous’ now.”


A short time later, Cupid realized that he’d been manipulated. He’d cleaned the both of them with a thought and conjured them a meal. When he’d met Strife’s pale blue eyes over the rim of the silver goblet, he came to the realization that Strife had had no intension of leaving. There was just too much smug satisfaction in Joy’s eyes for it to be anything else.

He tried to work up to being angry, but just couldn’t manage it. Two days of the best sex he’d ever had had just mellowed him out; first with Jessie and now with the God of Joy. Strife had made no move to leave after the second round of sex. In fact, he’d made a small noise of disappointment when they’d disengaged. He’d remained firm about sitting on Cupid’s lap while they ate. Cupid had been both amused and flattered that Strife had wanted to remain in contact. This whole scene of eating with his lover on his lap feeding him tidbits from the plate was one that he had wanted to enact with Jessie, but the sight of Strife so smug and sated lifting a grape to Cupid’s lips canceled out any anger that he’d have felt about this ‘seduction’ or Strife wanting to prolong their time together.

“You never had any intention of leaving, did you?” he asked as he bit down on the grape in his mouth, juice flooded his mouth.

“Nope,” Strife admitted, popping a grape into his own mouth and washing it down with another swallow from his goblet.

“Am I that easy to figure out?” Cupid wasn’t happy about having to ask.

“Cupid, you *adore* a challenge, it’s just part of who you are, and now, the thought of all that ‘field testing’ is swimming in your brain-“

“Like a group of Naiads at a pool party,” Cupid grumbled.

“Admit it, you are flattered that I wanted you enough to do a ‘frontal attack’ and then manipulate the situation for some more frolicking.”

“You make it sound like we’re a bunch of nymphs at a picnic.”

“Trust me, War, I do not now, nor have I ever, thought of you like a nymph.” Strife grinned and bit into a peach.

“Good.” Cupid growled. Then an evil grin lit his face and a look of not quite fear sparked in Strife’s eyes. Good, let him be a little nervous. It wasn’t going to get around the Olympian Grapevine that you could twist Cupid. Oh no, there were consequences to deal with when you tangled with War.

“Umm, ah, Cupid…” the last time that Strife had felt this nervous was when Demos and Phobos had transported him in front of a hungry Cerberus with a pork chop tied around his neck. The same look of predatory anticipation that had glinted in all three sets of the dog’s eyes was now gleaming in his cousin’s. The peach stuck in his throat and he dropped it back onto the platter.

“Yes Strife?” He was reaching around him to the desk top.

“Well, uh…what are you doing?”

“You wanted me, right?”

“Umm, yeah,” Strife gulped. How could you get a hardon when you were this nervous? Somehow though, he was managing.

“Well, now you’ve got me.” There was a loud crash as the silver platter hit the black marble.


*******All these compliments are going to make me blush! So keep them coming, I love to blush (it happens so rarely these days). To answer your question, purrfus, this is the first story that I have shared or published. In fact, I rarely get this far into a story before I get distracted. Sometimes I lack follow-through. To all those that have reviewed; thank you very much for your encouragements, I probably wouldn’t have kept going if you hadn’t taken the time to shore up my delicate author’s ego. A first time author is very nervous. When I put the first chapters on the website, I felt Strife standing in front of Cerberus with that pork chop around my own neck. Thanks to you all, I was able to not only lob that pork chop at the dog, but afterwards get up enough courage to go up and scratch his ears.

My muse has been playing coy, though. But, with this chapter, she not only stopped playing catch-me-if-you-can, she came up behind me and whapped me on the head with the Inspiration Stick; the cheeky wench. I have ideas pouring fast and hard for the coming chapters, it’s just going to be a matter of being able to sit down and write them out. Be patient with me guys, I’ll get them to you as fast as I can.


P.S. I have never thought of myself as a ‘Schoolhouse Rock’ kind of person, but thanks to Giannilee, I had ‘Conjunction Junction’ running in my head for days. Thank you, thank you *very* much (hear the sarcasm in my voice.) However, it is hard to stay annoyed with Giannilee, as she is one of my beta readers and a darn good one too. Don’t let her fool you folks, she new that something *exactly* like that would happen; another cheeky wench in my creative processing. I’m surrounded by them, but hey, they keep life interesting.