Prophet Seeking Pt. 05

Author's note- This is an anthology series set in the same dreamy Greek inn. Each is a modern take on an ancient Greek myth yet the characters and plot differ so they can be read separately or in any order the reader chooses. Enjoy!

~Reforging Old Bonds~

I'm going to tell him. Didi stared at the text message she had just sent her trainer-turned-lover, willing a response to appear on the little screen.

She looked up at her clueless husband who sat across the café table, his face mostly covered by a newspaper. A glance down at her phone revealed ... the dots of doom. She watched them blink and disappear, blink and disappear, for what felt like forever.

Ping. Finally!

Are you sure that's wise babe? The return text read. Wise?! Since when did he start caring about doing what was wise? Certainly not when he was pushing her up against the locker of the gym after every training session.

Didi's nervous hands gripped the handle of her coffee cup tightly. She fretted over a tiny chip in her long ruby red nails. It wasn't easy staying this sexy- the manicures, the painful waxing, the expensive hair bleaching, the latest season's fashions. And did Chase appreciate her considerable efforts in the pursuit of beauty? Heck no! Her oblivious hubby hardly noticed anything. So focused on his work as a geologist for a major mining firm, he was more myopic than a cyclops.

"Dear, I wanted to talk about something with you." Didi ventured, trying to give her voice the proper seriousness for the circumstances without alarming him.

"Hmmm." Chase responded with obvious disinterest, not even bothering to lift his gaze from the business section. As usual he was too distracted by shiny rocks to notice her tone or even her constant glances at her phone. He probably wouldn't even take note if she stripped to the skins and did bare naked cartwheels down the sidewalk.

Didi needed to be noticed, she fed off it. It might be considered vain or shallow, but it was just how she was wired. How else was she to feel desirable when her husband hardly looked at her? Well, if she couldn't get that feeling from him she would find it in the flirtatious wink of a waiter or the secret trysts with her martial arts instructor. Yet after the initial thrill of being admired was over she was usually left with an empty, guilty feeling.

Maybe if she could tell him she could alleviate the cycle of guilt. But her husband just carried on reading his paper, clueless to her inner turmoil.

"Never mind." She sighed and deflated in her chair.

Didi had hoped that their Grecian getaway would bring them closer. If her husband couldn't disappear into his workshop maybe he would have to focus some attention on her. Unfortunately, she soon discovered that he could withdraw into trade journals and business calls just as easily in Greece as he could at home.

Part of her wanted to tell him about the affair out of spite. To run away with her latest lover to shake her husband out of his complacency. Yet there was this small niggling thought in the back of her head that he wasn't quite as oblivious as he seemed.

Didi jumped at the clatter of a cell phone vibrating against the table. Not hers but his. Chase looked to see the caller and immediately snapped it up. "What's the problem now?--- What do you mean it'll take another two years to get the permits? I was told 6 months tops." He slammed his cup down on the table nearly splashing Didi with coffee. Glancing up, he started as if he'd only just recalled she was there. "Sorry dear this is going to take a while. Why don't you go back to the inn. Maybe take a little nap and I'll catch up with you later?"

Didi wondered just where Chase had found the Horned Gate Inn. He'd said something about his interest in a local mineral deposit. As far as ancient ruins dangling from cliffsides go, the place was cozy enough though it was way off the beaten track. Then there were the decidedly peculiar factors. First, that weird blind innkeeper in a tightly-laced Mary Poppins getup complete with an oversized umbrella. Must be uncasual Friday. Or was it screw loose Saturday? Second, there was that strange bed in their room with the lewd carvings and the slightly frightening goddess glaring from the headboard. Oh well. After a long day on the road any bed sounded good right about then.

"Sure. Later." Didi downed the last sip of coffee. Through a thick veil of eyelashes she caught sight of weird factor #3. In the grounds left at the bottom of the cup clear as day was the image of a falling net. Hmm, curiouser and curiouser.

Ω

"Don't sweat it. He won't be home for days." Aphrodite reassured the naked god between her thighs.

"Are you sure?" Ares drove her back against the nearest wall with enough force to make bits of plaster rain down from the frescoed ceiling. Her perfectly manicured nails clawed into his shoulder blades, leaving thin trails of red. He howled and then pivoted on his well-toned legs to thrust their entwined bodies up against a marble pillar. It rocked a bit in its mooring and Didi inwardly prayed they wouldn't topple the whole palace with their lust.

"He's off on an expedition to obtain raw materials for his latest project in Thrace." She answered between panting breaths. Just what that project was she had no idea. Her husband was always too busy working to explain anything like that to her.

Forgoing technique for raw passion, Ares slammed into her, their bodies clashed against each other. The motion of his hips was erratic and furious. His fierce hardness plunging into her yielding softness. She had to dig her heels firmly into his rock-hard ass to avoid being bucked off.

"And he has no idea about us?" His eyebrows knit together in concern. Even with a face twisted with worry Ares was achingly handsome. He had the sleek blond hair and the strong square jawline of a storybook prince and the sheer alpha male appeal of the star quarterback. An irresistible combination and he knew it.

"None." She replied with a bit more confidence than she actually felt. It's not like her husband noticed much unless it was made of metal. Yet something told her that he might have his suspicions. Call it goddess's intuition.

Ares crushed his lips onto hers with brutal force and she returned the embrace in kind, her soft pink tongue delving out delicately to taste his desire. Tastes like Fireball whiskey and bloodlust. Their mouths warred in a clash between masculine violence and feminine passion. Everything was a battle with the God of War but there were rarely any winners. At best it was a stalemate.

"Why do you ask, not scared of my husband are you, soldier boy?" She challenged.

"Me scared? Never." The war god hissed. He wrapped a handful of her long golden blonde hair around his fist and abruptly wrenched her backwards. She sailed across the room and landed with a thud onto the bed. The massive canopy bed that she shared with her husband. Didi stifled a twinge of guilt and instead leaned into Ares' rough hands as he joined her on the mattress. Those big strong hands that held the promise of mindless pleasure; escape from real life and all its mundane concerns.

That promise was swiftly answered as Ares' hurried touch perused her body. His hands were insistent, greedy, almost careless. They were everywhere grabbing, pinching and manhandling her most tender regions. She gave herself over to the sensual barrage before growing impatient.

"Fuck me, for Cronos's sake!"

"Shut your mouth, woman." He snarled and sunk swiftly back into her wet heat, barely giving her a chance to adjust before he was ramming away again.

"That's goddess to you."

Sex with Ares was always like that, fierce and frantic. Taken in stolen moments at the gymnasium, in the temple or while her husband was away on business. The frenzied fucking made more appealing by the forbidden nature of their liaisons. It was most of the appeal actually, if Didi was totally honest with herself.

Not that she ever was honest with herself. That was a sure-fire way to spoil a good time.

Ares certainly knew how to have a good time. It was one of his few redeeming qualities. He may be aggressive, slowwitted and more self-centered than Narcissus but he knew how to have fun.

Her husband did not. Hephaestus, god of the forge was pretty much the only immortal she knew who didn't like to party. Inexplicably preferring the seclusion of his volcanic workshop to the reverie of festivals and orgies. It was absurd. They were Greek Gods, for Zeus's sake, loosen up a little!

The apparent mismatch that was their marriage seemed to cause unending amusement to their fellow Olympians. The sober, serious lame god was an unlikely match for the Grecian party-girl goddess of love. Ha ha, very funny. Even Aphrodite had to admit how silly they looked to outside observers but there was a point where their marriage worked well, their differences complimenting one another. Before Hephaestus disappeared into his workroom day and night. Before Aphrodite got bored with his lack of interest and found interested parties anywhere she could.

Before she met Ares.

Ares let out a guttural growl that broke through her dark thoughts. He propped her ankles on his shoulders and plunged deeper. Ares taut tan body was already covered in a fine sheen of sweat as he pistoned in and out. His manhood (or should we say godhood) was hard and brutal inside of her and her pussy clenched around it like a vice.

Ares threw his head back and let out a roar louder than the Nymian lion. His savage hands wrenched violently into the down bedspread. The sound of ripping fabric was promptly followed by the sight of fluffy white feathers spilling out into the air. They drifted down over the mattress like delicate snowflakes.

Yet the two hardly registered the feathery flurry. The mad race to climax was driving them both, drowning out everything around them. They were close to their aim, lost in the dark tunnel of desire where nothing existed but pleasure.

They didn't notice the halting steps behind them, they didn't notice the click of a release wire, they didn't even notice the wry laughter echoing off the marble walls. In short, they noticed nothing. That is until the net fell on their heads. That was pretty hard to miss.

It seemed to happen all at once. One moment they were locked in a passionate embrace on the bed, the next moment they were surrounded by a fine mesh netting, dangling far off the ground. Aphrodite screamed, Ares let out a bellowing war-cry. Both flailed and clawed desperately at the golden links that encased them.

"Don't bother, that net is unbreakable."

The two captives quieted at the sound of the familiar booming voice.

"I should know. I made it." Hephaestus stood in the doorway, a rope in his hand and a triumphant expression on his face. The expression quickly darkened when he beheld his distressed wife naked and tangled against her lover.

"Husband, I thought you were in Thrace." Aphrodite tried her customary coquettish lilt but it came out uncommonly high and strained.

"I suppose that explains why you invited your lover to cuckold me in my absence."

"No you got it all wrong, darling. Ares came by looking for help, you see there is this nymph he has the hots for so he wanted me to brew up a love potion for him."

"In the nude?" Heph's eyebrow shot up doubtingly.

"The herbs can so easily stain and I was wearing that new dress you bought me I didn't want to ruin-"

"Enough." Heph cut her off.

"Yes really Didi, how shameless can you be. Clearly we've been caught. Literally." Ares gestured to the net all around them. "Might as well fess up. I've been fucking your wife for months."

"I know." Was all Hephaestus said.

The silence stretched out between them, hanging ominously in the air like the net that ensnared the guilty lovers.

"What do you intend to do with us now?" Ares snarled.

"That depends on you. I could ring this gong." Heph walked over to the massive metal disk that stood in the corner of the room and raised the mallet threateningly. "One strike and all the gossip loving Olympians would instantly be summoned to witness your shame."

In response to this threat the god of temper tantrums thrashed and roared like a honey badger caught in a trap. His massive, wounded ego was taking up every spare inch of space in their cramped confines.

"Or-" Hephaestus interrupted Ares' fit. "You can make a vow here and now to never lay with my wife again."

"Ares will never agree to that." Aphrodite announced with certainty. "He wouldn't forsake me just to avoid a little public humiliation."

"I'll take the deal." Ares declared without a moment's hesitation.

Bastard! She turned to claw and scratch at Ares but he easily swatted her hands away. She should have known. She should have guessed that the arrogant prick would choose pride over love or loyalty.

Not that it ever really was love. That was now painfully clear to Aphrodite. With the exhilarating prospect of getting caught no longer hanging over their heads their passion was sure to dry up faster than hydra jerky in the sun.

"Swear it."

"I swear on my father's throne that I will never touch Aphrodite again."

With that Heph unceremoniously released the rope from his grasp. The net plummeted to the ground, landing hard on the bed below. The liberated pair scrambled out from under the golden web.

Ares stuck around long enough to hastily wrap a robe around himself. He shot Hephaestus a defiant look, he didn't even bother (or dare) to meet Aphrodite's scornful gaze. Then in a blurred streak he was gone.

Just like that husband and wife were left alone. It wasn't until that very moment that Didi realized what a perilous position she was in. True as an immortal she couldn't be killed but there were worse fates than death. Hera was continually finding new ways to prove that to her own adulterous spouse.

At the mercy of a spurned god, she stood before him as naked as the day she was born. (If you call being spat out of a giant clam shell being born.) Normally Didi enjoyed being nude, it made her feel like the smoking hot goddess she was but this time it just made her feel uncomfortably exposed. Her arms shot up to cover herself in shame but Heph gently moved them away to reveal her body to his view. Only then did she dare to raise her chin to look her husband in the eyes.

What she saw there was devastating. Expecting only anger in his steely eyes she was shocked to find hurt and beneath that, a glimmer of compassion.

A rush of remorse struck her with such force that she had to look away. She wanted to throw herself at his feet and beg for forgiveness but she couldn't. A goddess must never be seen to kneel. Instead she stood still and bare before her husband.

"Heph, I'm-." She muttered in a thin voice.

"Follow me." He commanded. His tone was unreadable, his face blank.

Aphrodite obeyed, following a few steps behind with her head hung low. She could hear the irregular echo of his limp ringing down the hall; a persistent reminder of how cruel the gods could be to one another. When he took a sharp left to his workshop Didi let out a surprised gasp. Though Heph had spent countless hours there, he had never invited his wife to his private sanctum.

The second they stepped inside Didi was hit by a wall of stifling heat. An acrid smell filled her nostrils. In the dim light it took her eyes a few moments to make out the source of the oppressive heat; a massive forge that took up an entire wall. It had the shape of a lion, its jaws strained open as if in mid roar. Its yawning mouth glowed bright orange, heated by the active volcano in which the palace was built around. Her eyes darted to the rough stone walls. Countless tools dangled there on pointed hooks, their sharp edges and blunt angles glinting ominously in the eerie glow. Her heart began to beat faster.

Although Didi had asked her husband to invite her to his forge many times, now that she stood before all the potential instruments of torture she wished he hadn't chosen that particular day to oblige her.

"What do you intend to..." She turned to face her husband and the words caught in her throat.

Seeing Hephaestus in his natural environment was like seeing him for the first time again. It's not that Heph wasn't handsome. All the gods were. But his brand of masculine beauty could only be described as unrefined. A far cry from Ares highly polished GQ allure. Black hair, thick and course crowned his head like a lion's mane. A dusky beard shadowed his cheeks and highlighted intense eyes that burned a deep russet. Everything about his rugged darkness was the opposite side of the coin from Ares' trademark fair good looks.

In most settings Heph would be overshadowed by Ares' flashy charm. But in the fiery heat of the workshop, with eyes blazing and nostrils flared, Heph could out show any man or immortal for sheer masculine allure. Ohh, Mommy likes.

Aphrodite couldn't remember the last time she had truly admired her husband. Centuries of wielding solid ore had sculpted his body into a fine machine with layers of thick, ropey muscle. Fortunately for her, the scanty Cro-Magnon style loin-cloth he wore revealed every one of those muscles to her admiring gaze. She'd previous thought the stone age look was so last season but the way it showed off his thick thighs and washboard abs she had to concede that maybe those cavemen were on to something.

Curiously her heart began to beat even faster. Whether her heart pounded out of fear or excitement she couldn't quite say. Part of her was frightened of course, if any place could serve as a makeshift torture chamber it certainly was that one. But beneath the fear was an undercurrent of longing. A sense of fairness, a feeling that she deserved whatever punishment her husband might mete out. Even craved it.

"What are we doing here?" She asked half in hope, half dread.

"Giving you what you need." He answered enigmatically. "You can leave now but don't bother coming back if you do."

She eyed the exit and then paused. "Or?"

"Or you can stay and find out if there is anything left in our marriage worth saving. If you stay we play by my rules but you get to pick your poison- so to speak." He crossed his thick arms across his chest. "So will you stay?"

"Yes," she replied guided mostly by curiosity, momentarily forgetting what that cost the proverbial cat.

A faint smile spread across his lips for a fleeting moment. Yet his face was again an inscrutable mask as he held a silver serving tray under his wife's chin. "Very well, choose."

Odd time for hors d'oeuvres, she thought as he lifted the lid. Her sea blue eyes grew wide as she beheld the offerings. These weren't canapes. She ran her fingers curiously across the unusual items lined up in neat rows. Some were self-explanatory like the elegant chain of gold, chunky iron manacles and a leather strap with a ball gag in the center. Others were more mysterious like the small clamps with sharp teeth and smooth orbs of shiny metal.

"I spent weeks preparing for this day." He admitted leaning in close so that his hot breath tickled her bare throat.

"You made all these?"

"Yes, for you. I'm sorry it took something like this for me to spend time on you."

His admission touched her. She had imagined how he would react if he found out many times. She had pictured fiery rage or maybe an icy disdain. For a volcano deity he could be surprisingly icy. But this kindness was far worse than she had imagined. It filled her with shame.

"These" Her slender finger pointed to the pair of delicate clamps.

The corners of his mouth lifted in a brief smirk but it vanished and was quickly replaced by his trademark smoldering scowl. His rough, calloused hands went straight to work. Holding a finely wrought clamp over the peak of her breast he let it sink into the delicate flesh. A shocking bolt of sharp pleasure shot straight to her core. Deftly he repeated the process on the other side. The clever little devices caressed her nipples with just the right amount of bite to cause pleasurable pain. Under the weight of the metal her breasts felt heavy and full, her nipples aching in delightful torment.