Topping Aphrodite

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Topping Aphrodite

Chapter V

The snake slipped from Aphrodite’s depths, and she mourned the loss. She spread her legs wantonly, in hopes of its return or that of Ares’ silken tongue. Ares smiled. How much he was going to enjoy this. His cock was hard and throbbing again, and, with a blink, he clothed himself fully in black kidskin to assist him in maintaining control. He did not want to plumb the depths of that sopping shell until he had roused her from passive acceptance of his will to utter submission. She would beg for his cock before she received it.

From the shadows, five of Ares’ willing slaves moved toward the dais. All were naked, beautiful specimens of humanity at its finest. Young, taut, sensual, and obedient—just as he liked them. His mind control was absolute, and they were only too happy to do his bidding even without it. As they approached, the golden snake divided itself into four long, thin bands, and slithered down each of Aphrodite’s sensitive limbs. Coiling around wrists and ankles, the twining serpents held her fast, then froze, welded magically to the marble altar. Aphrodite writhed a moment in their grasp, testing her bonds. ::Yield, goddess. Yield to your Master,:: Ares sent, an edge of lust-filled cruelty to his mouth as he held her gaze.

The mortals came to stand around her on all sides of the altar. Aphrodite’s eyes grew wide, taking in the five lithe young bodies, three men and two women. One man bent before her and bit into her right shoulder, teeth clamping her soft flesh. She gasped, closed her eyes. “Open them,” Ares snapped, as a woman sank her teeth into the warmth of her thigh. The pain was sharp, harsh, and unwelcome. She wrestled mentally to control herself, to do as Ares demanded and surrender. She kept her eyes open and focused on his. There was so much pleasure in his eyes, and she worked to embrace it, to see herself as bestowing that pleasure through her willing submission. A third set of teeth found her calf as a fourth bit in to pin her left forearm. She cried out sharply. Ares’ smile widened; she felt in his mind the decision to gag her. She fell silent again, all patience and self-control, but it was too late. The fifth mortal, a small, dark woman, moved from her side to stand above and behind her. She pressed a soft palm firmly over Aphrodite’s mouth and the other hard over her forehead to hold her down. She was bound by the living flesh of Ares’ slaves.

“Very nice. Now, let us test whether you are truly ready. You,” Ares said to the mortal at Aphrodite’s head, “be sure that the Goddess can at all times see me clearly.”

“Yes, my Lord Ares,” replied the petite woman in an obedient yet sensual voice. Looking around her, Aphrodite noticed that all of Ares’ minions had a heated, sexual flush to their cheeks as they gazed out of the corner of their eyes at the mighty God before them. Though she loathed being gagged, she did notice that the pain of the bites grew less sharp, becoming more of a steady ache that pulsed in her four limbs at the same steady beat as her heart and between her legs.

“Beloved goddess, sister, and slave, I too feel that sweet pulsing at your core. Our hearts beat as one, our desire drives us.” Aphrodite struggled a moment, wanting Ares to take back his obscene use of the word “slave” to describe her. The teeth bit in harder; the hand did not loose her mouth. As she attempted to send her angry retort mentally, she found the pathway blocked. The mortal slaves suddenly pushed her onto her side, though her ankle remained cuffed in place. Ares large open hand came down hard on her bare backside with a loud crack. Aphrodite winced, attempted to pierce Ares’ mental block. His hand came down again, harder. Her ass stung and she felt the reverberations throughout her body. ::Submit, slave. Submit to your Master.::

Aphrodite fumed, raged. ::This is the pleasure you offer me, you bully?:: she thought at him, despite the block.

He laughed, full and loud and continued the punishment of her perfect cheeks. Aphrodite felt shamed. His mortals did not share in his mirth, and for this, at least, she was grateful. He bent to lick the reddening welts on her supple cheek with a warm, wide tongue. Then, he sat beside her on the dais and stroked her hair, though he did not let the woman release her mouth or head from her tight grasp. ::Foolish Goddess. How is it that my mortal toys are wiser than you? You have not earned your pleasure yet. When your body and mind are entirely mine, I will offer you gifts of rapture that no other can.:: He stood again, looking every inch the unrivaled warrior. His hand came up again as she was held twisted on her side. She shut her eyes tight. There was no slap. “No. Look at me and accept the punishment you have earned for your resistance to my will,” he said quietly, rich with power, menace, and a sexual magnetism that was his very essence.

Aphrodite took a deep breath, opened her eyes and held his gaze, a burning fire in their depths. She wanted the pleasure he offered, badly. She would endure his tests and this pain to reach that pleasure. He smiled, raised his hand higher, and slapped her ripe ass hard: once, twice, three times. Aphrodite kept her eyes on his, holding her breath and forcing herself to be still, to withstand the assault. As she took this small, painful beating, she had to admit to herself, she had an awakening. There was a battle for control going on here, but they both wanted her to win it. There was aggression, but, even more, there was arousal, hunger, need. His as well as hers. Ares eyes were aglow with that need; she could see that now. The overt power was his, but there was power, too, in her ability to heat his blood, to move and inspire him. They were both panting with it.

At a nod, the woman removed her hand from Aphrodite’s mouth. “Speak to me, Goddess,” Ares said, breathing hard—though not from exertion. “Tell me what I need to hear.”

In a voice breathless with desire, without hesitation, she spoke: “I am Aphrodite, slave and plaything for my Master, Ares, God of War and Domination.”

The mortals vanished in the blink of an eye. The teeth were gone from her soft flesh. No moist hand held her head. The snakes still held her ankles and wrists, and she found, despite herself, that she enjoyed being displayed thus for the one who would now give her pleasure beyond imagining, for him and only him. Tonight.