King of the Mountain

"Please, Iberian. Please ...."

As the nectar of a goddess touched my lips the whole of the place shook!

The husband was angry. His wife's juices were upon my palate.

Good. Let my father rage.

I plunged my tongue into Hera, drinking from her sacred cup. Taking the thick passion I found there, a thick flow of sweetest of drink, into my mouth. A moan escaped her throat. Then her hand was on my head, pushing my face deeper between those hair-lined lips. Making me do what I enjoyed.

Outside a thunderstorm shattered stone, reshaped steel, broke iron. Again and again, his power lashed this place. Striking it with a fury unseen upon the earth since the titans walked.

Smiling at his anger, I devoured my father's wife.

Oh, the sheer joy to hear this woman, this goddess of Motherhood and Fidelity, building to an orgasm. She was passion given female form, the ultimate lover of men and unshackled by the rules she had lived eternity by ... Hera gave of herself readily. Hunching her hips, lifting her plump ass, driving her wet sex into my mouth. Feeding her juices to me, drowning me in them. All the while singing my praises in moan filled cries of lust that reached out to her ragging husband's ears to infuriate him further.

"Iberian! Oh, my sweet lover, you know me so well. Lick me there, oh yes there!"

And again and again, she screamed as I brought her to the edge of the little death. So much power and she was reduced to simpering, whimpering and begging by me.

Then she was clawing at my head and shoulders.

"Inside me, I need to feel you. Please!"

My face dripping my lungs gasping at the sweet, sex reeking air I nodded and allowed her to pull me up. Hera reached between us and took hold of my cock, and it was thus by her slender, delicate hand that we were brought together. It was the wet passion of her that eased my first thrust. It was her beauty and lust that drove my body to a hardness I had never before experienced.

Like a Hoplite's dory spear my cock pierced her wet flesh and drove home into her. And she reacted with a passion scream every bit as loud as if it had been a steel spear point.

I would like to say my full focus was on the woman in my arms, the warm sexy body under me, the tightness surrounding me or the passion filled murmurs of desire that filled my ear ... but no. I could not help, even as I eased into a comfortable rhythm, thinking of all the times in the past millennium that the gods had spit upon me. From my father down to the lowest half mongrel "thing" that held Olympian blood I was despised. Why I had not known in my youth, when I placed that coin.

Now, here at this time, in this place, taking carnal knowledge of this the mightiest of the goddesses, I knew. Oh, yes I knew why. In a place where the gods jump from bed to bed, mingling their seed with any and all manner of things, I was something different.

I was the Bastard Child of Fate.

Before being the offspring of Zeus, before being any type of demigod, I was simply that. The Bastard of the Fates. And they, the ones that hated me for so long, knew what I had not known.

Such an unclaimed child of Fate ... can make his own destiny.

Here in the sanctuary of Hera, the place gifted to her by her mother Rhea. Imbued with the entire primordial titan's power to make it a place where a woman could go and her husband never follow. Yes here in this place I, Iberian the Bastard, son of Zeus, child of Fate, cuck-lover of my father's wife, could do what none in the history of man or gods could do.

Shake the foundations of Olympus itself.

With growing urgency I heard the Thunderer striking this sanctuary. And not him alone. Other gods had come to this place, summoned by their king. Eleven gods or goddesses had gathered and now listened to the passion screams of Hera. They either watched, or they joined Zeus in his senseless attempts to break into this place to stop me. Some were horrified, some confused, some secretly amused.

Hera's legs enwrapped my hips pulling me deeper into her with every thrust. Her lust bringing on the very thing the gathered gods wished to postpone or deny. I looked into her eyes and suddenly I to was unsure if I wanted this to happen, even though it was far too late as it was to turn back. I shrugged that thought away. This moment predestined from before my birth.

"Cum for me, lover. Fill me with your seed." Hera's words a passion gasped whisper by my ear. Her fingers clawed at my back, the nails biting hard into my skin, urging me on. Faster. Urging me towards something that needed no further urging. Faster. "Make me eternally yours, my love. My beloved, Iberian."

Faster.

Outside I could hear the hammer of Hephaestus and the sword of Ares join the thunderbolts of their father in trying to break into this place. How rich was the anger of Hera's sons knowing their mother was being taken, and taken by me at that.

Gasping for a breath of air that would not come, feeling Hera's hands on my face soothing me into my release, gripped from within by instincts more powerful than life I arched my back and drove my full length into this beauty. I kissed her at the moment of my greatest passion, one last kiss of divinity to see me to my anointed end.

Pulse after pulse, I orgasmed into Hera. My body beyond my lost control in throws of bliss, mindless animalistic urges to spend, to release ...

... to procreate.

Resting my sweaty forehead on her breast, her gently smoothing my damp hair and caressing my neck, whispering wonderful words to me, I smiled. Yes to bring forth life, the very goal of the act. Feeling her hugging me to her sex warmed body I knew, instinctively knew, that we had managed that miracle. With the little power I had I could sense that tiny spark within her.

Somehow, with all the titanic might still being applied to the outside of this structure, my lover sweet Hera drifted into a deep sleep then. I held her in my arms listening to the sound of her heart. I ignored the pandemonium of the gods for the moment. Simple enjoying this last moment of breath before the plunge to the end. Whatever end that was going to be, I could hold it at bay for only seconds longer. But if you try, sincerely try, you can live a lifetime in a few seconds. And I so wanted to try.

I placed a soft kiss upon the stolen lips of another man's wife. My tricked and beguiled lover.

Leaving her to sleep, I made no attempt to clothe myself. Proud and still wet from its battle, my cock led the way to the door. Outside a silence had grown to match that inside and when I placed both hands upon the outer doors I paused. Here it was, the very second, the very moment for which I had been born. Even the Bastard of the Fates can feel a pause at seeing the end before him.

Naked, I thrust open the two great doors. Naked, I stood to face the whole pantheon of Olympus. Naked under the eyes of the Gods.

And I looked upon them all with contempt.

I looked to my father. Rage had deformed his face into a monstrous countenance. He shook with it. The world shook with it. The Heavens themselves rattled from his fury.

Lightning crackled in his clenched fists. Spit dripped from his mouth. His eyes were burning coals.

Reaching up to my throat, I took hold of the gold coin. I tore it free of the binding thread, feeling a shiver down my back as I did so. A foreshadowing of what I would soon feel, no doubt. With graceless disregard, I tossed it as his sandaled feet.

"You know now, Father, the cost of your contempt. Try giving that coin to the child I have placed in your wife's belly, see if it will buy the love you would not give your own son. See if it will keep your destroyer from your throne on Olympus." I smiled in the face of his anger. "Thou best of kings, thou shall be ousted of thy scepter by thy son."

For a second, I saw something different pass over Zeus's face. Even a god will shiver feeling the hand of the Fates upon his spine. But then his rage returned and I lifted my chin in the face of it.

Lightning, hotter than the wheels of Apollo's chariot, struck me from all side. The pride I felt succored me from the pain--as the last dregs of my hated bastard life left me--for I knew that I had followed my predestined fate.

Six times hated. Five times reviled. Four times denied.

Thrice-born. Twice dead. Once loved.

I was the dice pips that the hands unknown had thrown. And as prophesied I, the Bastard born child of the Fates and a god's lust, had brought about what none other could.

~"Upon the day of Lupercalia, with the unknown comprising of Eros, shall a God be slain, and another born. Let the punishment of Neoptolemus be the price of a coin."~