Thursday, February 20, 2014

Ganymede, a short story (part 1)

This is just a short story, not related to one of my novellas. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.


Warning: Homosexual sex, a threesome, and rape. All explicit.


Ganymede, snatched away
     
            “My dear boy, you know I wasn’t jealous much before we met.”

I nodded my acceptance of his claim, though; internally I debated its fact. His romantic conquests were legendary, not just here in Troy, but all across the Mediterranean. The sailors at the taverns were always eager to share the most lurid of the tales after a few cups of undiluted wine. I, myself, had shared a few with the guys. Never, however, my personal experiences.
“Every woman I see look at you makes me want to swoop down and snatch you up. I’ve never been so possessive.”
“Eros had it easy, I was an easy mark. A little small talk, a little touch, and I was stuck. I really don’t know what you’ve done to me. Women never fall this easily.” He laughed, a deep-throated rumble like the sound an approaching storm makes as it gathers force in the open waters. I loved it!
“I feel a kind of fear when you aren’t right here near me.” His grip tightened on my arm, pulling me closer to his chest. His dark, only slightly greying, chest hair tickled my own hairless ribcage. Smiling, I rolled over to my side to rest my soft cheek over his pounding heart and draped my leg over his much larger, more muscular one.
I lifted my leg a bit, sliding my thigh up higher along his, just barely nudging his already hardening cock. My voice lowered seductively, “Everything is new…”
“I beg you, Ganymede, don’t waste any of your emotion on or share your devotion with another. Give me all your love!” His volume rose, a true godly command, as he turned my face up so our eyes could meet. The deep brown of his pupils, clouded still with lust, met my own paler brown eyes – like a woman’s, my father once told me, though not as a compliment. He waited for my acquiescence, a slight gesture of understanding. I was his.
“I’ve had my share of love affairs, boy. Short, meaningless flings. Sensible enough for my wife to accept. Which makes this…” he waved his hand, heavy and etched with years of labor, rough with so many callouses at the air above us, intertwined as we were. “This is so unfathomable. Hera is not going to be pleased with you.”
I didn’t appreciate hearing Hera’s name, her wrath was as well known as his sordid tales of lust. Speaking her name was, no doubt, some kind of signal for listening ears to report what was going on here. If she didn’t already know about me, I definitely didn’t want her to find out by catching her husband and I in the act. Or, rather after the act. Our skin still shone with fresh sweat, our hearts still beat rapidly, our breaths coming shallow and quick between words, my skin flush, his smile content, and signs of his completion drying white and sticky on my thighs and backside. Just the thought of what had moments ago been happening in this room and on this pallet, brought the memory back and with it, my passion.
Idly, I looked down to see my fingers had found their way around Zeus’ cock. I slipped my fingers slowly up and down the hard, steely, length of him. At first, barely tickling the velvet skin, then with more pressure each stroke. The pleasure I caused to flourish and peak in Zeus amazed not only him, but also me. It was so easy. It felt so right. My tongue eased from my lips to lap at the nipple I rested my head on. Deep strokes of my tongue across his pebbling nipple grew stronger and harsher with each stroke of my fist on his cock. I moved my thigh higher on his, pulling his cock a little higher away from it, and caressed his balls, instead, with my soft and tender flesh. I shivered at the sensation.
Zeus’ sigh quickly turned to a deep groan, which reverberated through his chest and echoed against my ear. I lifted my head for a moment to look back up at my god. His head was tossed back; eyes shut tight, mouth open. Tugging at his beard, I got him to open his eyes and lift his head, confusion clear on his face.
“Will you take me again, my lord?”
The confusion vanished, replaced with pure passion. “Climb on up boy and let’s pleasure each other first. Then, yes, I’ll take you, my boy.” Under his breath, he continued, mumbling, barely audible, “I can’t seem to deny you or myself.”
I moved swiftly, happiness and joy at getting him again, moving me faster than usual. Untwining my limbs from his and switching direction, I gracefully draped my smaller, more feminine body, soft where other young men in the village were hard muscle, over him. I reveled in the musky smell of the olive-skinned god as I stretched my arms along his thighs and gripped his knees, already bent for me. My legs, I gingerly straightened and placed over his arms. His hands grasped my calves as I felt him pull us both into a more upright position, bracing his neck against the rolled up bedding at the headboard. I kneeled upon his broad shoulders. His breath blew zealously across the heated skin of my rampant cock a moment before I felt the warmth of his mouth suck me in.
“O, Zeus!” I almost lost it then, nearly came in his talented mouth. But, that wasn’t allowed. At least not until I got him off first. The rules were never spoken outright, but during that first night together, he had directed me in the ways of earning his praise. Direction I took to heart, eagerly.
I fought my imminent climax and tried to will my body into waiting. I needed a distraction. As fortune would have it… I grinned. Zeus’ cock was a masterpiece. Thick and long, curved slightly up. According to him, he was bestowed with the unique shape courtesy of Aphrodite – “in order to better pleasure his women” – a gift, for all of us, really. With my hands supporting my weight, I had to maneuver about to get that cock where I wanted it, right between my lips, the head clamped tightly between them. Then, using my gifted tongue, I dipped it into the slit and began to stroke up and down. I savored the bitter flavor of his pre-cum as it leaked from the slit. I started to hum, then, my lips vibrating on his sensitive cock head. His own mouth, sucking and licking my cock, suddenly let go as he moaned deep and whispered my name. Safe, for the moment, from a premature climax, I continued my satisfying assault on my lover’s cock. Opening my lips just the slightest bit, I lowered my head to slide his cock further into my mouth and down my throat. I took as much of him as I could, sucking on his thickness, licking along the veins which beat and throbbed with his desire.
He rocked his hips up and thrust himself more deeply into the moist warmth of my welcoming mouth. The head bumped against the back of my throat and I fought hard ignore the reflex to pull back and dislodge him. Turning the sensations inward, I let the feel of him in my mouth and throat register lower, in my groin, making my balls bounce and tighten and my cock swell just a little bit more. Zeus’ deep grumbly mirth coated my cock with a dewy heat as he laughed, “Like that, do you boy?” I tried to smile around his plunging cock, but it was impossible. I nodded my ascent instead, causing another round of laughter from Zeus.
So enjoying himself, he began to draw circles around my button, one pinky tracing the puckered skin. I groaned and he thrust again, harder and deeper. Needing more, at this point in the game, I thrust right back at him, lifting my ass and pushing it back towards his finger. He understood, gods bless the man, and went from tracing my button, to pushing first one finger, than two inside me. My canal shivered around the intrusion and I contracted against his wide fingers. He curved the same fingers and stroked the thin, inner lining of my canal. Bliss, pure bliss! I sucked mightily, using my tongue to swirl saliva around the head of his cock as he withdrew each stroke.
“Good gods, Ganymede, I need you!”
The sudden exclamation surprised me, as did the sudden switch in position. I looked back, beneath me, between my legs where Zeus had moments earlier been. All I could see now were his upper thighs as his hands grabbed my hips harshly, pulling me tight into his groin. I reached back behind me, bowing by back, raising my ass and shoulders, to caress his Zeus’ cock and situate it perfectly for what we were before eager for. No lubrication was needed; his leaking precum was enough to coat himself, with the help of my hand. He slid in easily, his fingers already loosening the sphincter. Moaning, I grasped my own cock, trying to pinch back my climax. At first, his strokes were slow, easy, and painful in their simplicity. I threw back my head, close to begging for more. Zeus’ chest fell upon my back as one hand reached beneath me to remove my hand and take over, teasing me, as the other hand tangled in my hair and yanked my head back far enough for him to kiss the soft and tender skin of my neck and nibble on my ear.
Only when I started to writhe, whimper, and silently beg, my mouth wide open, did Zeus release both my hair and cock. Shifting forward, pressing fully into me, he took me in earnest – our bodies slapped together rhythmically, loudly, my cock flopping all around, its weight pulling on my hardened balls. I braced myself on the bed, the thin sheet clutched in my hands, my knuckles white with the effort to hold on. When, at last, Zeus pumped me hard, with long, deep caresses, stilling with his release, did I let my own cock spew. My cum coated the sheet. His warmed me inside.
“You are perfect.” Zeus lessened his hold on my hips and allowed me to fall to the bed, flat. Lying down beside me, he tucked a few strands of my sweat-slick hair behind my ears. “I must go, now. Promise me you’ll stay in the house tomorrow, please?”
“My lord, why?” I frowned at him; he looked so serious, brow all furrowed, after our exploits. “You said you couldn’t tell me, but why?”
“Just promise me. I can’t lose you.”
I shook my head, wanting so much to make him tell me. It was such a strange request. Usually, he asked me to go riding or hunting in the forest around the city so he could admire me from Olympus. He’d never asked me to stay inside, unable to be seen by him, watched by him, and prized by him. So strange. “I promise.”
He stood, then, gathered his discarded tunic and cloak, re-donned them, and after a sensuous kiss, his thick tongue tasting mine, left.

v

Though the sun was well above the line of the horizon, the quick rap on my door still woke me from a deep and comfortable sleep. I stretched my limbs, feeling the bedsheets crumple and crack beneath me instead of slide seductively and at once remembered why I found myself just now stirring. A night with the king of gods will do that to a boy. The smile that crossed my lips was pure cheekiness.
“Ganymede, damn boy, get up!” Assaracus’ first light rap of knuckles on the door had now turned to full-fist blows upon the rather weak wood. From my bed, through the split curtain separating my room from the rest of the apartment, I could just make out the rippling of the wooden beam he was focusing his attention on.
“Stop banging on the door, brother, I’m up!” I stood from the bed, grabbed my tunic, a little wrinkled from spending the night in a heap on the floor, donned it quickly and strode to greet my brother, making sure the curtain was tucked fully across the archway.
I opened the door a few inches in time to see Assaracus mimicking my own words dramatically. “What do you need?”
“Ilus sent me.” With those few words, I opened my door wider and stepped aside to let my brother in. This was not going to be good news. With Ilus involved, it rarely was.
“I’m going to need to make another trip along the coast to Prokonnessos aren’t I?”
“Seems so. Apparently, the latest shipment of marble isn’t quite up to standards. ‘I tell you, Assaracus, look at this grain! Within a month, the entire altar will be pocked. Fit for the gods, my balls!’ Do you know what he’s talking about because I sure don’t?” My brother’s ability to impersonate was truly uncanny. And, when not me, hysterical!
“Doesn’t even matter if we did understand. We’d be doing his bidding regardless.”
“That means you’ll meet him at the shipyard, right? Because I’m not leaving here until that’s your answer.” All hilarity gone, Assaracus’ face was serious. Ilus was our brother, and as such, fair game for a little fraternal teasing, but as the city’s main engineer, the entire population’s savior, and our only hope for greatness, his commands were as imperial as the king’s. Perhaps even more so, lately.
“Of course.”
“Good luck, then, brother. Safe travels.”
After Assaracus left, I returned to my room, ripped the linen from the bed, and tossed it in the basket beside the door. I would have to drop the full basket off at the launderer on my way down to the port. Picking up my satchel, I filled it with another tunic, another pair of shoes, an extra cloak, and length of linen. Then, donning my usual, weatherworn and faded, travelling cloak, I picked up both the basket and satchel and headed out.
The walk was quick, downhill most of the way. Before reaching the port, I took a left, toward Ilus’ studio. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d be there, that’s where he spent all his time these days. Well, not days, more like years. Bent over the tilted table, drawing. Designing the city walls, the tiled roofs, and the palace spires: seeking perfection in the man-made world. I didn’t even bother knocking on the heavy wooden door, stepped swung it wide and stepped in, dropping my satchel heavily.
“… the sacrifice is too big, lord.”
“Nevertheless, I will be expecting it.” The booming voice echoed through the small chamber, drawing my eyes to the faint glow before my brother’s kneeling form. The voice was so similar to Zeus’ deep rumble, I almost called out to my lover. But, something was off, something… fishy. I smelled a hint of the ocean wafting through the otherwise stuffy room. Well, of course, the brothers would share the same commanding, husky tone, full of worldly wisdom and expected obedience.
“Lord?”
Silence greeted Ilus’ whispered plea. The radiance faded completely.
Minutes passed before Ilus turned to face me. Although obviously shocked at my presence, his face only momentarily belied his surprise. He recovered quickly, addressing me, “Assaracus told you? Good, then I assume that bag is yours.” His direct, slightly condescending glance flicked to my satchel. “Be careful. Don’t forget to pass along my grievances to the stonemason. “
“What? No offer of a sacrifice…” Ilus flinched at the word,  “you know, brother, for safe sailing.”
“Ganymede, don’t be foolish…”
“And think I saw you speaking – er, arguing – with the god of the sea?” I grinned at him. “I don’t think pissing off the gods would be your wisest move at this point in your career.”
“The wall…”
“I don’t want to know. Just be sure to make your amends before I set sail. I’m not too fond of drowning because of you.” I left then, not waiting for his response. In the end, it wouldn’t matter what he said. Egocentric. Evermore.
The rest of the walk to the shipyard was uneventful, as was the equipping of the Syrian freighter for our short, coastal, circumnavigation to Prokonnessos. To fetch back Ilus’ perfect stone, for the city’s perfect altar.

v

The last thought which whisked through my mind before the wave crashed down over the railing of the ship and swept, like a torrent, across the deck, taking at least one man with it – screaming, half gurgling the salty water – were Zeus’ words the previous night. Promise me you’ll stay in the house tomorrow. Why had I not obeyed my lord and master? My white-knuckled grip on the edge of the stairwell leading into the storage bay was weakening with each passing wallop. Poseidon was no doubt taking his sacrifice, us, for Ilus’ blasphemy. One brother for the other; one life devastated for the sins of a kinsman. Ilus, you idiot!
The ship heaved suddenly, as if striking a rocky shoreline, creaking and groaning. For a moment, the sloshing waves ceased and the few of us men still hanging on, managed to catch sight of each other, eyes wide, fear clear. The ship settled again, hard, into the sea, definitely listing to the stern. Slowly, we all felt the freighter begin the tortuous slip into capsizing. Unable to swim, too far from shore to float on debris, we were doomed. The screams came unbidden from throats raw with salt.
I closed my gritty eyes, the pain too intense even to cry out. And, I prayed. An eternity passed.
The roughness of the wood beneath me vibrated with a wrenching impact and the screech of ripping lumber. I was dead. No escape. Cold water seeped into my veins. Then, suddenly, I felt a sharp, piercing pain in the muscles of my shoulder. I was dangling, legs flailing in the air, my weight supported by something large above me, intermittent gusts lashing my face from each side. Death and water retreated and the wind froze my dripping body. Peeking from behind bloodshot lids, I saw only calm skies around me and a whipping whirlpool below. My ship was gone. My friends and shipmates nothing more than specks of vanishing color in blue-green brine.
With a funereal sigh, I passed out.

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