Medusa's Proposal

Author's Note: This continues a story I started in "Medusa's Trophy" and continued in "Medusa's Pleasure." The mythical Medusa is a more sympathetic character than the monster from classical mythology and most modern portrayals.

If you enjoy this story and style, you'll probably enjoy reading "Medusa's Trophy" and "Medusa's Pleasure" first, but that isn't essential; this entry starts with an alternative perspective on the first two stories that effectively summarizes their key events.

All characters are over 18, especially Medusa and the other figures of Greek mythology present.

~~~~~~~~~~

From the unfathomed depths of his palace, the sea god watched.

Poseidon had long watched the gorgon in his bedchamber's mystical looking glass. He had never taken such an exquisite woman before or since that time he raped Medusa in Athena's temple. Even now, her cursed form was lithe, voluptuous, and alluring to the point of distraction. Just thinking about her stirred his Olympian loins. But she had spurned him - rejected him even after he had bred her and sired her son. Poseidon still wanted her, but Athena's curse stymied him - damn that goddess! Petrification wasn't fatal or permanent for an Olympian, but it was inconvenient enough that he could never force himself on Medusa again. And so, Poseidon watched.

The sea god had watched her couple with each hero the other gods had sent to kill her over the centuries. Poseidon had watched her mock those gods as she captured each hero. The lord of the waves had watched Medusa use her carnal wiles to twist each hero against the very god or goddess he championed before turning the hero to stone. This annoyed the other gods, but it amused Poseidon. Medusa had learned the power of forced mating from the best, after all. What fools those mortal champions were! And what fools the other gods were, to think their champions might resist a woman whose erotic pull had tempted Poseidon himself to take her in Athena's own temple!

I may never have her again, Poseidon had mused. But neither will anyone else. That makes her mine, even if only to watch.

But then Aphrodite's Spartan had brought his pathetic slave with him onto Medusa's isle - into Medusa's cave. The gorgon had captured, seduced, and turned the Spartan, just like all the others. But the slave! He had kissed her - and she had kissed him! Medusa had denied that willing gesture to every men before, even Poseidon himself!

The sea god's surprise quickly turned to bitterness as she dallied with this mortal, as if a mortal slave could truly befriend or woo such a monster. Worse still, the other gods had started to watch. He could feel their interest. Apollo broke through the clouds first, giving that cursed wench and her fawning Helot a brief taste of freedom in the sun before Poseidon closed the unwelcome gap in his storm clouds.

A coquettish snort broke him from his reverie. "Your bedchamber is as gloomy as the last time I was here, Poseidon." The sea god whirled to see the sultry form of Olympus' love goddess appear, in a robe too tight to leave any of her ravishing form to the imagination. But her ways held no allure for the sea god; he knew all too well the trouble that seductress brought when she spread those shapely legs. "Aphrodite. How did you get in here?"

"That's not much of a welcome. Last time, you seemed happy enough to take me here."

"Last time, your loose tongue about what we did nearly started a war on Olympus."

"You didn't seem to mind my tongue before that."

Poseidon ground his teeth, even as he felt a twitch in his loins. "How did you get in here?"

"Oh really, Poseidon, I come from the sea too. Just because I don't come back often doesn't mean I don't know how."

"Fine. What do you want? You know I won't bed you again."

Aphrodite scoffed. "As if I would have you either. You've changed. Ever since Medusa showed up, you've been obsessed with her. Athena's curse did naught to change that." She gestured a perfectly manicured hand at his looking glass, where Medusa was tending to the slave's hurts. "See? Even now, you gawk at her! I can't say I see the appeal, but I have my own interest in her now. She seduced my champion away from me. Me!"

Poseidon shrugged. "You're hardly the first to lose a champion that way."

"No, but I mean to be the last, and I want your help avenging this insult. Who does she think she is to seduce a man away from the goddess of - what's this?"

Aphrodite stared at the shimmering looking glass as it showed the Helot and Medusa sitting together, holding hands. "Who is this? Another victim?"

"Your Spartan's former slave. Your champion tried to use him as bait: a coward's trick."

Aphrodite shook her head. "He's not bound - not resisting her. Is this a trick to kill her?"

Poseidon grunted. "He had a chance to kill her after she turned and petrified his master.

"Did he miss?"

"No, he - ah - he kissed her."

"And she didn't kill him?"

"Well, no. She - she kissed him back."

Aphrodite stared at the unlikely pair in the looking glass. "What else have they done?"

"Inane mortal talk, mostly. They hung your champ - your former champion's statue in the entranceway together. He made a meal and shared it with her. He has a few hurts, and she was just treating them. I suspect she's toying with her prey."

"You're wrong. These two - they want each other." Aphrodite cocked her head as she considered the figures in the looking glass. She saw them lean towards each other, their voices soft. She saw the gorgon wetting her lips.

Poseidon snorted. "Impossible."

Aphrodite shrugged her shapely shoulders. "Watch, then."

In the looking glass, the slave stroked Medusa's cheek, and after a few murmurs, she pressed forward into a kiss.

Poseidon roared with laughter. "A monster-woman and a scrawny mortal slave? Ha!"

In the looking glass, Medusa flinched at the slave's awkward fondling. Aphrodite giggled. "By Olympus, she probably hasn't had anyone willingly touch her since - since you! How desperate must she be?"

The pair in the mirror undressed. The Olympians heard the small voice of the Helot came through: "I can see why Aphrodite is jealous. You're incredible."

Aphrodite sneered. "As if I'd be jealous her?" The sneer shifted to a smirk. "Oh, to have some scarred, inept weakling of a slave paw at my reptilian chest!" She sniggered.

Poseidon chortled. "Ignorant mortal. What imbecile would prefer that cursed harlot over the goddess of love?"

Aphrodite snickered. "What imbecile indeed! Perhaps I should - should..." she trailed off. The slave checked Medusa's descent, refusing her obvious offer of fellatio. The goddess's eyes widened. What manner of man was this?

The Olympians fell silent watching the strange twosome's developing foreplay. Poseidon's side glances told him a different story from Aphrodite's complaints and derision. He saw the love goddess' lips part. The goddess's fingers drifted over her own bosoms, an echo of the slave's hands caressing Medusa. The peaks of the goddess' breasts hardened, becoming visible through her robe. His gaze returned to Medusa as she cried out in a quaking summit of pleasure. The sea god chortled at the irony. The gorgon had only wept when Poseidon had taken her. But his chuckle cut short as he realized that the unlikely pair hadn't even coupled their loins yet - and now she was leading the Helot to her bed for more!

As he watched the slave enter Medusa, Poseidon felt his own member hardening. Was it his memory of raping Medusa? Was it the goddess of love next to him and her obvious arousal? Or was it watching the gorgon's fervency as she wrapped her curvaceous legs around the Helot's hips and pulled him in?

Poseidon wrenched his gaze away and locked eyes with Aphrodite. She arched an eyebrow and glanced down. She had noticed his reaction too - not that it took a love goddess to notice or interpret the sea god's rigid member jutting out through his seaweed robes.

Without a word, the two Olympians threw off their clothes and cast themselves upon Poseidon's bed. The oceanic palace rocked as sea god crashed into the love goddess. But Medusa's moans of delight from the looking glass pierced and eclipsed the Olympians' passions. Aphrodite barely moved with Poseidon, and her eyes kept darting back to the looking glass. The love goddess' arousal fell short of the carnal zeniths the mortal was giving Medusa. Not that the sea god noticed.

Poseidon's fleshly scepter ground into Aphrodite's heavenly womanhood, but as he closed his eyes, it was Medusa's gasps and cries that filled his mind. In his imagination, he was driving himself into the gorgon's depths, that sheath so long denied his naked blade. He kept his eyes shut, for that was how he might avoid Medusa's powers of petrification, her only defense against him. He ignored Aphrodite's pouty lips; Medusa's were fuller. He ignored the goddess's lustrous hair as she tossed it, imagining instead the head-snakes of Medusa snapping a futile resistance. He ignored Aphrodite's enticing clutches summoning his arms to embrace, for his arms had other tasks. One arm shoved Aphrodite down by the shoulder, as he might have to hold down the gorgon. The other held her hip steady as he drove himself into her.

As Poseidon held the love goddess down, he imagined himself filling Medusa's sumptuous body, filling himself with his frustrated longing for that gorgon, filling himself with a wild storm of erotic dominance as he reclaimed Medusa. In his imaginings, he was showing that cursed woman the delights she was missing, impressing the gorgon into accepting him. That he was actually coupling with the goddess of love herself was irrelevant. Aphrodite could have been any woman with a pit for his rutting.

All too soon, the gorgon's apex cry rang out from the looking glass. A tsunami of indulgence surged, and the sea god roared his illusory triumph over Medusa. Then Poseidon opened his eyes and looked down as his godly phallus sprayed torrents of divine essence into Aphrodite's unresponding womanhood. The goddess didn't even acknowledge him - her gaze had already fully returned to Medusa and her mortal lover.

With a grunt, Poseidon withdrew his fast-deflating manhood from Aphrodite, but the scene in the looking glass arrested his attention, too. The two Olympians watched, entranced. Medusa shouted her ardor as that gods-cursed woman rode the slave to her third apex of the coupling - a third! And still they went on with a zest unabated. Aphrodite let out small sighs as she squeezed the woven nets that blanketed Poseidon's bed in her tight fists. She paid no heed as the sea god sat beside her.

When Medusa collapsed after a fourth - a fourth! - pinnacle of pleasure, Aphrodite murmured, "She finished; he did not."

Poseidon forced a sneering laugh. "All Medusa's efforts were for an impotent man! Ha! I remain the only one to seed her - and now you, again. Be proud, Aphrodite. You wanted some Spartan princeling for your next lover, but you'll carry the sea god's child instead. Medusa only had my pleasure once. Now you've had me twice!"

The goddess' pouty lips curled down. "You know as little of lovemaking as you do of mortals. Or children. Or me." With that, Aphrodite vanished in a shimmer of bubbles. Her crumpled robe remained on the floor.

Poseidon glanced at the looking glass, where the gorgon and the slave rested in each other's arms. With a wave of his trident, the sea god banished the vision. He had more pressing matters now.

Apollo's sunlight on Medusa's island was a trivial nuisance for Poseidon to smother with storm clouds. Aphrodite, though? The love goddess was trouble. Aphrodite had come to make trouble for Medusa. Despite the goddess's stated disdain for Poseidon, she was willing enough to couple. Yet she left in such a sulking temper - and for what? So what if she didn't take her own pleasure in his bed - that wasn't his fault - it wasn't enough to go running her gossiping mouth against him again, was it?

The sea god groaned. Who might a fuming Aphrodite go to, and what might she do? By Tartarus! Poseidon would need help to rein her in. But who could reason with that goddess of strumpets? It would have to be a god lecherous enough to understand, but responsible enough to -

- The answer was obvious. The sea god dressed and summoned his servants. Going to Olympus was a bother, but he had no choice.

He had to speak with Zeus.

~~~~~~~~~~

A dull thump and a moan shook Asklepios awake. Had he overslept? His master would surely beat him for his slothful - but what was he doing in a soft bed? He opened his eyes and saw the torches hanging in sconces.

Memories of the day before came back to him. He was in Medusa's cave - in Medusa's bed - where they'd mated to her exhaustion the night before. She had cried out with pleasure in zenith after frenzied zenith. These moans were different.

He looked down. Medusa writhed slowly, clutching her head. The snakes of her hair wriggled and spasmed around her hands.

The Helot frowned. "What's wrong?"

The snake-haired woman shook. "My - my curse. It always does this - ooh! - the day after."

"The day after wha - Oh. How can I sooth it?"

"You can't - ahh! - You can't sooth this"

"I can try! Asklepios sprang up, his nakedness forgotten as he dashed to his pack. Dumping out the contents, he found his medicine pouches and hastened back to the bed.

The Helot pressed some herbs to the gorgon's soft lips. "Here, willow leaves. Chew them."

Medusa shook her head. "It will pass - I think."

"You think?"

"The pain is - ooh - is worse this time!"

"Then take this!" He pressed the leaves to her mouth again. She yielded, taking them in, rolling them about, chewing.

Asklepios got busy. The pot was by the stream, where Medusa had made him leave it before they - no time to think about that now. He filled it with water, seized a couple of torches from the wall, and set the pot atop their combined flames near the bedside. How did they never go out - no time to think about that, either. He glanced over at the gorgon. She was still now, except for the chewing, but her eyes remained closed and tight.

He touched her hand. "Does that help?"

She took his hand in hers. "A little. Thank you."

"This tea should help more, but it will take time to brew."

"Talk to me, Asklepios. Tell me something."

"What do you want to hear?"

"Tell me of your childhood - your family."

"That's not a happy story."

The gorgon tensed, and her snakes hissed. "Please. Just talk. It would help distract me from this."

The Helot sagged, deflated. "As you wish. My mother's name was Coronis. She was from Tricca in Thessaly, but she became pregnant while her husband was away, and she ran away - to Sparta. I never knew her. I was given to a Helot slave to raise, a widower whose wife had died in childbirth. His name was Aresthanas."

Seeing the gorgon's breath slow, he went on. "Aresthanas nursed me with goat's milk and raised me. He taught me what I know of healing. I had lots of practice - Spartans are cruel to their slaves. Well, most of them, anyway."

Medusa flinched. "Most of them?"

"There was a - a young Spartan woman, a daughter of my master. Autonoë. I met her one night when she came to me in secret, bruised and bloodied. Her brothers were cruel to her. When she found I could soothe her hurts, she was grateful. From that day on, she came to me whenever she was hurt or ill. Autonoë found little ways to show me kindness: distracting my overseers, making sure I got easier work around the house. She started see me in secret when she had no hurts. Then one night, she snuck me to her room, and we became lovers."

The water was boiling. Asklepios gently pulled his hand to add the willow bark, but Medusa tightened her grip on his hand. "What happened?"

Asklepios sighed. "We planned to escape, to run away from Sparta, to make a life with each other. The Fates had other plans. We had to be apart for a while. I had to go away with her brother to the Agoge for a time. Her father learned of her brothers' abuse and sent her away to a school for Mousike - Spartan dance, music and poetry. They sent her back, because - because she was with child. Our child."

The cave blurred. Asklepios took his free hand and wiped away tears. Then he absently tossed a few pieces of willow bark into the boiling water. Medusa stroked his hand. He went on. "At first, Autonoë's father was pleased. Spartans mate in secret when they're young. But when no Spartan man claimed fatherhood, he realized that his daughter had given herself to a foreigner or a Helot. He was so enraged, he gave Autonoë over to the Krypteia, the secret police. I never saw or learned what they did to her. Neither did the other Helots. They only heard Autonoë's screams."

"By the Gods! And that's why you bear all those scars?"

A lump rose in his throat as he went on. "No. Autonoë never gave me up. The Krypteia killed her, and our baby died with her. My scars come from her brother's cruelty - and my own guilt I suppose. I found small ways to provoke him, and I never resisted. My pain seemed a fitting punishment."

The gorgon held his hand to her cheek. "Is that what happened last night? More punishment?"

The Helot's head snapped up. "Of course not! Our coupling was a welcome delight."

"Was it? No man or god ever coupled with me so much or so well, and each took his pleasure in turn. Yet your own your completion eluded my most determined efforts."

"I - I don't - what has that got to do with - "

" - Your guilt, Asklepios? You spoke of how you sought pain and punishment for what happened. Might you also deny yourself pleasure? I - oh!"

- Every muscle in Medusa's shapely form tensed, and her snakes shook and hissed. A bump arose in the skin between a couple of snakes on Medusa's head as she grimaced and grated, "You took your punishment - now I take mine. Another victim, another snake, another reminder of the monster I am - Ahh!"

Her cry rose to a scream. The skin on her scalp parted, but two snakes emerged. One was a mottled green, like all the others on her slithering head, but the other was far darker, almost black. Then the gorgon relaxed, panting.

After a minute, her breathing slowed. "That was different. Worse in a way, yet having you here helped. And what's this?"

Medusa sat up, her naked bosoms swaying as her newcomers detached themselves and slithered down her arms. The rest of her snakes surveyed the newcomers. "I've never had two before... and what is this dark one? They've always been green before - like me."

Asklepios reached out, stroking the dark snake, which nuzzled his hand. "Its head is different, too. It's not venomous." He glanced up. "Are you feeling better?"

Medusa's eyebrows furrowed. "I... I'm not sure. My head still hurts some. I think I need some rest."

"Have some tea first."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Near the hilltop above Medusa's cave, Asklepios sat on his bedroll watching a full moon emerge from behind the clouds, his back against a sheer rock wall still warm from the recently-set sun. Medusa's dark snake slithered up to him. The Helot took the dark snake into his lap, absently stroking its head as he watched the sky.

A while later, the gorgon's melodic voice rang out, "I was wondering if you'd left me for good."

Asklepios smiled. "No, I just thought I'd enjoy the night. The sun was out earlier, and the clouds have not returned."

Medusa strolled up the hillside, her curving figure swaying beneath her wrap, a blanket tucked under her arm. "Twice in as many days? The gods indulge me. A pity it's night-time."

"We'll get no more rain tonight. The sky may still be clear in the morning."

Medusa laid out her blanket next to his bedroll and sat next to him. "How do you know it won't rain?"