A Picture Challenge Story by

By Aramis

DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to MCA/Universal and were used and abused without permission. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made.

Iolaus lay on the river-bank thinking of Hercules. How he loved the demigod and how he despaired of ever having that love returned. Sure he knew Hercules loved him, but he wasn't *in* love with him and that small word made all the difference.

Resignedly, the hunter unbuckled his belts and opened his codpiece. Imagination would have to serve him yet again as it seemed the demigod never would. As his left hand slipped between his legs, he moved his right to stroke his nipples, wishing that Hercules' mouth was there instead. He closed his eyes and concentrated on one of the many fantasies he had woven about the demigod.

He did not see the large eyes, sparkling with evil, looking at him from the clouds and he did not hear her comment. "Looking for a strong lover are you, mortal? I'll see you get one," Hera observed. She then sought out Strife with a 'helpful' reminder about an important event and a useful suggestion of a way to mark it suitably.

Iolaus climaxed and lay gasping for a few moments. Thinking about the hopelessness of ever attracting the demigod's sexual interest, he failed to see the shadowy forms approaching.

He climbed slowly to his feet, stripped off his clothes and headed for the river to have the bath that had been his original reason for being there, the small inn where he was staying with Hercules lacking such niceties.

He completely submerged himself and then stood up in the thigh-deep water and flicked back his curls. Water streamed down him. He began to soap his lithe body.

"Hello, Iolaus," said a voice from the nearby riverbank.

The hunter swung around in surprise. Three figures were watching him. He only recognized one, but that one was more than enough. "Strife!"

"Now that I've seen more of you, I'm beginning to understand why Uncle Ares is fixated on you," said the young god, smirking unpleasantly.

"Yeah, he's a pretty sight," one of the other godlings observed

"What do you want, Strife?" Iolaus asked, endeavouring to conceal his apprehension, while assessing the situation. The three were between him and his clothes and, more importantly, between him and his sword and hunting knife. He didn't like his chances of getting past them. Strife might be a relatively minor god, but he was still a god and his strength far exceeded that of Iolaus. Further, he expected the other two, as Strife's friends, would also be gods.

"That's not a very friendly way to greet me," Strife commented, "especially as I'm here to do something for you."

"I don't need you to do anything for me," Iolaus retorted. The river, which had previously seemed so inviting, seemed to be growing cold. He shivered and hoped the three hadn't noticed.

"Stroppy little thing, isn't he?" observed one of Strife's friends.

"Yeah, always has been, but that won't last. Uncle Ares will knock it out of him - if I don't do it first."

"What are you on about?" Iolaus asked, tersely. He was going to have to try to get past them sooner or later and was nerving himself to attempt it. 'I wish Herc was here,' he thought. 'I could do with him right about now.' However, the demigod was back in their room at the inn.

"You'll see. Come here!"

"No!"

"Iolaus, do as you're told."

The hunter bristled. "I'm not going to be ordered around by a kid like you."

A kid! Strife's eyes blazed. "Get over here *now*," he shouted, "or you'll be sorry." Iolaus didn't move. "If we have to come and get you, you'll regret it," Strife warned.

"So will you," Iolaus retorted, with a show of bravado.

The three disappeared. Strife reappeared directly behind Iolaus. He grabbed the hunter around the upper body, but Iolaus was slippery with soap and slid from his grasp and headed along the river.

However, he knew he couldn't realistically hope to evade the three. He didn't even know where the other two were. One materialized directly in his path. He spun to the side. The other appeared. He threw a punch at that one and was gratified to see him stagger back. Iolaus tried to dive past him, but it was hopeless. Strife appeared in front of him again. The three closed in, grabbed him and pushed him under the water. They held him there until he thought his lungs would burst.

When they felt him go limp, they let him up and dragged him coughing and retching to the bank. They flung him face down. "A bit of punishment is in order here," Strife declared. "Hold him." One seized his arms and the other held his legs. Strife broke off a willow branch and proceeded to lash his back, buttocks and thighs. The blows stung sharply, but the humiliated hunter bit his lip and made no sound.

Finally, Strife drew blood. The sight recalled him to his real purpose. "I'd better stop. I can't give Uncle Ares a damaged pressie. He might want me to exchange it and then what would I do," he laughed. "Turn him over." Iolaus glared up at him. "Don't look at me like that. You should be honoured. Most mortals would be gratified to learn they were considered a gift worthy of a god." He turned to his friends and explained, "Last year, I forgot to get anything for my uncle. He was *not* pleased, so this year I decided to make a real effort and get him something he's had his eye on for a long time."

"What makes Blondie so special?" one asked.

"Apart from his obvious charms, he's got one special attribute. No, not that!" he commented, as the other stroked Iolaus' penis while looking questioningly at him. "He belongs to Uncle's goodie-goodie brother Hercules. Uncle Ares feels this is both unfair and a great waste as Hercules is ever so moral and doesn't have the foggiest idea what to do to a hot little number like this. You can bet Uncle Ares has plenty of ideas."

Iolaus was listening apprehensively. 'Herc, where are you,' he wondered. 'I really need you.'

"Well, let's go and get him gift-wrapped," Strife said, sniggering. The three vanished with their victim.

An instant later, Iolaus found himself lying face down, gagged, shackled and spread-eagled on the black satin sheets of a large four-poster bed in a huge, sombre room. There was a slave collar around his neck, with a foot or so of chain dangling from it. He heard Strife's mocking voice, "I've even written out a birthday card so Uncle will know who has been so thoughtful. I've selected a ribbon to match your eyes." He produced a small card dangling from a blue ribbon and tied it into Iolaus' curls. "I've sent a message to tell Uncle I need to see him urgently. He should be here soon. You two had better go. I'm staying to watch the fun." The other two reluctantly departed and Strife vanished behind a large cabinet.

A short time later, the dreaded God of War flung open the door of the room and strode in. "Strife," he called imperiously, "I'm here! Where are you?" He glanced at the bed and did a double-take. "Well, what do we have here?" he purred, silkily. He reached for the note. "It looks like my nephew has spared no expense this year," he said, grinning broadly. "It's just what I wanted, Strife."

"Huh? How did you know I was still here?"

"I know you'd be keen to see my reaction and to see me use my gift." He ran a caressing finger down the cleft in Iolaus' buttocks. Then he noted the marks of the beating. "Strife, have you been playing with my present?"

"Only a bit, Uncle. Only where you can see."

"Good, I hate getting used presents. I like to break them myself. This is going to be *fun*." To emphasize his words, he poked two fingers into Iolaus' anus and began to finger-fuck him viciously. The hunter cried out in pain, but the gag effectively muffled the noise. "Oh, dear," Ares commiserated, "how frustrating for you not to be able to express your pleasure. Actually, I'm probably going too fast here. I want to get maximum enjoyment from my present."

With that he gestured and the shackles opened. Iolaus wrenched the gag from his mouth and scrambled off the bed. He tried to dodge past the God of War. He had no idea where the room was located, but anywhere else *had* to be safer.

However, Ares had anticipated the move. His arm snaked out and clasped Iolaus' right shoulder, his fingers digging cruelly into the creamy flesh. "No, my pet, I want you to stay here." He dragged the hunter back against him, wrapping one powerful arm around him to pin his arms to his body. He leant forward, nipping at the hunter's earlobe and, in velvet tones of menace, breathed, " I'm going to play with my new toy for hours."

Then he took hold of Iolaus' neck with his free hand and swung him to face him. He looked down possessively, his burning eyes licking over Iolaus like a hot flame. He laughed deep in his throat and shifted his grip to hold the blond's upper arms. Iolaus writhed and tried to pull free, but the God of War was far too strong for him. He drew Iolaus against him, crushing the hunter against the hard muscles of his broad chest. "You know I can do anything I want to you. I can take you right here on the floor if I choose." The tone was caressing, but the words sent a shiver of fear through Iolaus.

Still clasping Iolaus' upper arms, he lifted him high into the air and then lowered him gradually so he slid down his body. Iolaus felt the god's hard shaft against his thighs and then his belly. His mouth was dry and his pulses were racing. He licked his lips and hoped his terror did not show.

As soon as his feet touched the ground again, he began to struggle frantically, but Ares' strength was unyielding. "Stop that!" he ordered. Didn't you hear me? Stop that!" He let go with one hand and slapped the blond across the face, rocking his head back and splitting his lip. Stunned, Iolaus stood still. Ares' eyes glowed triumphantly. Pulling the hunter against him, he lowered his head and his hard mouth descended onto Iolaus' in a bruising kiss. As he did this, he slid his left hand down Iolaus' right arm to capture his wrist. He pushed this up Iolaus' back with a sudden cruel twist, forcing the blond onto tiptoes to try to reduce the pain. Iolaus gasped in agony and Ares seized the opportunity to force his tongue into the hunter's mouth and begin to plunder it.

Without a conscious decision, Iolaus took one of the few actions available to him.

"OW! You little bastard, you bit me!" Ares complained, rapidly withdrawing his bleeding tongue. He released Iolaus' suffering arm and grabbed the hunter's hair, yanking his head back viciously.

Azure eyes looked at him defiantly, while their owner surreptitiously rubbed his aching arm.

"Don't you realize the pleasures I'm offering you?"

The hunter glared at him. "Nothing you do is a pleasure. Keep your stinking hands off me!"

"Obviously you don't appreciate my efforts. Well, there's an easy solution to that. You're acting like a spoilt child, trying to tell me what to do. I've got no alternative but to spank you. A bit of discipline may put some sense into you."

"No! Damn you! Let go of me!"

Ares sat down on the bed and dragged Iolaus across his thighs, twisting his arm up his back again, and gazing hungrily at the deliciously rounded buttocks thus presented for his perusal. "This *is* a beautiful gift, Strife," Ares observed, fondling the creamy globes.

"I'm so glad you like it, Unk. I'm getting a real buzz from watching you play with it."

The hunter tried desperately to remove himself from the vulnerable and humiliating position in which the God of War held him, but to no avail. A hard hand descended in a series of stinging slaps, that caused his eyes to water.

"Now let's see if you understand the situation better now. You will do exactly what I tell you when I tell you. If I tell you to lie down and open your legs, you will do so without hesitation or protest. Is that clear? Is it?"

"No, I bloody well won't!" the hunter retorted recklessly.

"You need a bit more training, don't you? Well, my pet, I'll enjoy doing that. What you need is a good thrashing followed by a thorough fucking and I'm going to give you both." Without warning, he surged to his feet tipping the hapless hunter to the floor. Undoing his belt, he began to beat the blond with the buckle end of it.

Iolaus tried to escape, but the merciless belt pursued him, trapping him in a corner of the room. Blood began to run down his back and buttocks. He lay huddled against a wall gasping in pain.

Then, without warning a hand descended, grasping his neck and pulling him to his feet. He staggered back against the wall, staining it with his blood. Ares forced his chin up and bent his head to capture Iolaus' mouth again. This time the hunter was too afraid to bite. He just stood and endured it.

Finally Ares raised his head, smirking triumphantly at his apparent submission. "Get on that bed!"

The hunter didn't move.

"Get on that bed!"

Still no response, but his eyes blazed defiance. Ares loved that expression and the spirit that inspired it. He knew the gorgeous mortal wanted none of him and would resist until the last. The God of War exulted in the challenge he offered.

The god grabbed the short length of chain dangling from the collar and dragged him across the room. He then lifted him and flung him face down. "Spread yourself!" he ordered.

"No!" He twisted over onto his side as he tried to scramble up.

"But yes, my pet, we're going to do things my way tonight, even if you scream your head off." As he spoke he grasped Iolaus in a grip of iron and forced him back down. Iolaus struggled frantically, but the dark god's strength was unyielding. Ares' lips curved in a cruelly sensual smile as he forced Iolaus' legs apart with a knee and then motioned for the shackles to recapture his victim's limbs. The chains locked and pulled taut, stretching his legs painfully wide to leave him completely open, completely vulnerable, to whatever the god chose to do to him.

He positioned himself between Iolaus' thighs and patted his buttocks. "You're shivering, pretty one. Never mind I'll soon warm you up." He leant down and began to nuzzle and kiss the softness of the hunter's inner thighs. Then, without warning, he sank his teeth into the tender flesh causing the blond to cry out at the unexpected pain. He lifted his head and smiled lasciviously at Iolaus, while licking his bloody lips, and then returned his attention to the area feeling Iolaus shiver in helpless anticipation of the next bite.

After some minutes of this, he looked up again. "You don't seem to be enjoying this game as much as I am, my pet. Perhaps, we'd better play something else." Then without bothering with any preparations, he pounded into the hunter, sheathing himself completely in one swift movement.

Iolaus screamed in pain. He had known it would hurt, but had been unprepared for just how much. He strove desperately to pull away, but the shackles did not allow for movement.

The God of War proceeded to really enjoy himself. He took the blond fiercely, holding his hips in a punishing grip and thrusting hard and deep in a relentless rhythm. Strife fair shouted his encouragement, urging his uncle on to greater excesses, as he enjoyed the screams Iolaus could not suppress. With a stamina unknown to mortals, no sooner had Ares climaxed than he was hard again and driving into the blond.

After what seemed an eternity, he withdrew. "C'mon, Strife, time for a break."

"You go, Uncle, I'll keep an eye on your present for you. I'll make sure nobody else touches it."

"Apart from you, you mean? No, Strife, you can't play with it *yet*. I haven't had it long enough to want to share. You can have a turn, but not until later. Now come with me, I don't trust you an inch or perhaps I should say six inches."

"Aw, Unk, eight would be more accurate," Strife protested, laughing as they went.

The hunter was left chained to the bed. Iolaus was an emotional mess and he knew it. He was fighting desperately to hold back the threatening tears, as he feared if he gave in to them they'd never stop. "Hercules, where the hell are you?" he whispered. "I've never needed you so much.

Meanwhile, Hercules had decided to go and see what was taking Iolaus so long. He found his clothes and weapons, but there was no sign of the golden hunter. He looked at the river. It certainly appeared safe enough. It was slow moving and shallow, so Iolaus shouldn't have got into difficulties. But where in Tartarus could he be? He searched the immediate area and even waded around in the river, but could find nothing.

Some hours had passed and Iolaus had finally fallen asleep in spite of his fears. A crackling sound awoke him. For a few moments he was completely disorientated. Then a deep, velvet voice purred menacingly, "What a beautiful sight you are, my pet. I hope you're well rested and ready for more games."

A shiver ran through the hunter. The very danger of the god filled the room. Iolaus turned his head as Ares' dark shadow fell across him. He glanced up and could see desire burning brightly in the black eyes.

He realised that a fire was now blazing in the fireplace and that it had been the noise of this that had awoken him. The fire caught the sable highlights in the god's hair and outlined his muscular body with a golden glow.

He moved forward and plucked a silken curl from Iolaus' shoulder, winding it possessively about his finger. "Well, my pet, I'm going to give you a second chance." He waved his hand and the shackles opened. "You can now show me how well you learnt the lesson I taught you."

Stripping rapidly, he lay down beside the blond and then pulled Iolaus to him. Imprisoning him in his embrace. Iolaus felt frail against the powerful chest and steely muscles.

"Pleasure me," the god commanded, his lips curving in a sensual smile.

The hunter just lay still.

"Iolaus! You had an order, my pet."

"No! You're just going to rape me again anyway whatever I do, so I'm *not* going to do any bloody thing."

"Rape? I have no need to resort to rape. It doesn't have to be like last time. Before we're finished, you'll be begging me for more pleasure." He rolled over and, with one swift, smooth movement, he had Iolaus beneath him and was straddling the blond. Iolaus raised his hands to try to fend him off. The god seized his wrists and pinned them effortlessly, above the tousled curls, with one large hand. "Keep still, my pet, I'll give you a proper reason to squirm in a few moments."

He leant forward and began to kiss his way lightly down one of the hunter's straining arms. When he reached the armpit he inserted a delicate tongue. Iolaus gasped and writhed, but was held fast. "So my little pet is ticklish," Ares exulted. "We *are* going to have some fun."

He probed some more enjoying the hunter's distress and then moved to the blond's neck. Nibbling and sucking he worked his way around to an earlobe and began to lick lightly at it. Iolaus frantically tried to move his head away, but it was hopeless, the delicious torture continued. "I think I need both hands," Ares murmured and Iolaus felt the familiar shackles attaching themselves to his wrists.

The god moved back from his position astride Iolaus' waist to span his thighs. Leaning forward, he ran a hand lightly down the hunter's arms and then down his sides. His fingers curled into Iolaus' ribcage and he tickled him unmercifully. Iolaus' satin body rubbed against the god's as the hunter twisted and turned desperate to escape, laughing and sobbing at the same time.

Ares moved further back down the hunter's legs so he could lean forward and insert a playful tongue into his belly button. This drove the hunter wild. He started to thrash around, but Ares settled his weight onto the blond's knees and reached out steel fingers to imprison his hips and prevent further movement.

"No! Please don't!" The words were out before Iolaus could prevent them. Ares' eyes gleamed triumphantly and his mouth moved to Iolaus' groin. He grinned wickedly as Iolaus' treacherous body began to respond to these attentions against its owner's will.

His hot mouth engulfed Iolaus' penis while his questing fingers sought out the hunter's anus and began to prepare him. Watching closely, he waited until the hunter was pushing desperately against him and starting to whimper with need, and then raised the blond's hips to slant him upwards and smoothly penetrated him.

He began a rhythmic thrusting, drawing his length almost fully out and then driving back into the blond again. Iolaus could not contain his screams of pain. Then suddenly, overwhelmingly, there was another sensation. "Wh-What was that?" the hunter gasped shocked by exquisite pleasure that unexpectedly mingled with and overrode the pain. Ares shouted triumphantly. Pressing Iolaus down into the bed, he impaled him deeply until he reached a shuddering climax.

Then, while still lying inside Iolaus, he clasped the blond's penis and began to milk him, growing hard again as he did so. He leant forward and sucked onto one of Iolaus' small brown nipples. Just when he had a steady rhythm underway and the hunter was writhing helplessly, he suddenly relaxed his grip and withdrew. "Is that enough for you, my pet?" he murmured. "Shall I stop now?"

"N-No ... Please ..."

"What do you want, my pet? Ask me nicely and I might oblige."

"Fuck me." The voice was a mere whisper.

"*Nicely*."

"Please ..."

With a laugh that sent a shiver down Iolaus' spine, Ares resumed his former activities. This time the pair climaxed together, Iolaus exploding helplessly into the God of War's hand. He lay shuddering, while blackness, decorated with sharp pinpoints of coloured lights, swirled around him and threatened to engulf him completely.

When Ares finally left him, a shattered hunter began to weep. Iolaus was shamed to his very soul that he had responded to Ares, had given him, virtually begged him to take, what he only wanted to share with Hercules. The tears that he had managed to suppress after the rape now poured down his pale face.

He dreaded what would happen when Ares next returned, but unbeknownst to him the God of War was receiving news that had him hurrying off for a distant part of Greece.

A worried demigod was also about to receive news. His news was to be both reassuring, in that Iolaus was alive, but frightening in its details. As he wandered along the side of the river, scanning the water for any sign of his friend, he heard a voice. "Hercules."

"Hermes."

"Hercules, there's someone who belongs to you, and who you have inexplicably failed to possess properly, in Ares' home on Mount Olympus," the Messenger of the Gods said. "Now would be a good time to reclaim him because Ares has just been called to a distant battlefield."

"Iolaus?"

"Yes."

"But why did Ares seize him?"

"He didn't. I just heard Strife boasting about the wonderful birthday gift he'd bestowed upon his uncle and saying that he has been promised the use of it as well. I think he'll anticipate the permission while Ares is away so I don't think you'd better waste time getting to him. I'll take you there."

"Thank you! I hope it doesn't sound ungrateful, but why are you telling me this?"

"The mortal is so tasty, I've lusted over him for some time. All that gorgeous golden beauty! I hate to see Ares marring it and trying to break that reckless, defiant streak in him that would make him willing to tell even Hera to go to Tartarus. However, I'm not game to go up against Ares myself, especially since there'd be no reward in it for me."

"What do you mean reward?"

"Well, he's not going to fall into my arms with gratitude, is he? Not when he's besotted with you."

"With me?"

"Are you really that blind? I know they say love is blind, but *this* is ridiculous. I suppose you'll tell me next that you don't love him."

"I do! Of course I do! I just never thought he'd want another man, so I was never brave enough to say anything."

"Well, you'd better do so now! We'd better hurry or Strife will be there before us.

Unfortunately, Strife was not one to miss an opportunity. Uncle Ares *had* been rather unfair in his reluctance to share the gift while it was still new and so it would serve him right if Strife had fun with it in his absence. However, in the interests of self-preservation, he decided it might be better to use the gift in secret as Uncle Ares could be quite unreasonable about such transgressions. The fact that the present itself would probably speak up and tell the God of War, especially if it knew it could cause problems by doing so, was the main difficulty.

Accordingly, he had one of his friends take a drink in to the hunter that was laced with sleeping drops distilled from poppies. So when Strife finally entered the room, the blond was oblivious. He ran exploring hands over the golden hunter. Iolaus slept on unaware of the touch. The hunter's limp helplessness excited Strife further. He would be able to do anything to the blond and he would not protest and, more importantly, would not be able to tell Ares what his nephew had done.

He was just settling himself between Iolaus' thighs and preparing to assault him, when strong hands grasped his shoulders and he was lifted bodily from the bed. He swung around prepared to confront his uncle and found himself looking into the face of an irate demigod. A heavy fist smashed into his face and Hercules dropped him unconscious to the floor.

Hermes materialised. "Could you free Iolaus please, Hermes?" Hercules asked. "I can't break chains placed by a god." Hermes did so.

"What now?"

"Could you get us home please? Iolaus' house is the best bet. Mother would ask too many awkward questions if we went to her place."

At last the poppy dose Strife had administered was wearing off. Iolaus stirred and his vision gradually cleared. The first thing he saw was the demigod sitting beside him, smiling lovingly at him.

"Hercules!" All the hunter's love was in that cry of relief and joy. Any doubts that the demigod might have harboured about the accuracy of what Hermes had told him were gone.

In one swift movement, Hercules swept Iolaus into his arms and his mouth came down possessively on the hunter's. It was like a hot brand, telling Iolaus and the world that he belonged to Hercules now and forever. The kiss was almost brutal and Iolaus returned the kiss passionately, his tongue probing deeply. The scent of Hercules' body and the pressure of his hard mouth were aphrodisiacs that ravaged Iolaus' senses.

Hercules' eased the blond down onto the bed and slipped a hand between the hunter's legs, while leaning down to suck a nipple. Iolaus began to writhe and moan with desire.

Iolaus stopped thinking. He only wanted to feel the fullness of Hercules inside him, to obliterate all trace of the God of War. He arched wantonly against the demigod.

Hercules spread Iolaus' legs and raised them. He swore inwardly as he saw the bite marks marring the creamy smoothness of Iolaus' inner thighs and hoped that Iolaus was really ready for sex so soon after such an assault. "Herc, please! I need you," Iolaus urged, desperate at even this brief delay.

The demigod reached for a jar of oil beside the bed and liberally coated his erection. He inserted a couple of stretching fingers, but could wait no longer. He withdrew them hurriedly and then thrust forward to impale the hunter. The blond screamed and wrapped his legs tightly around him. He drove deeper and deeper until Iolaus was thrashing wildly with need and crying out in exquisite pain/pleasure. Then he reached for the blond's penis and began to stroke it in time with his thrusts.

They reached a consuming cataclysm together, and clung to each other in an embrace they hoped would never end.

Iolaus felt the contractions of an orgasm so great that he thought he would faint. Over and over his body shuddered with the force of his climax.

Hercules cradled him against his heart. "My sweet Iolaus, how I love you," he whispered, burying his face in the hunter's riotous golden curls. Iolaus lay against him, utterly safe, utterly protected. All was right with his world.

THE END

E-mail the author c/o Nephele at nephele@hotmail.com