Cupid's Chastisement, by NarcissusShouting obscenities, Ares flashed into the temple’s altar room.  Cupid, startled, dropped the petition he’d been reading.  The scroll hit the floor with a soft thunk and unwound as it rolled across the shiny stone surface.

“Ares, what’s--”

Before he could get out another word, Ares rushed across the room and grabbed the quiver lying on the low table. Yanking the arrows from their resting-place, Ares snapped the bundle in half and threw the remains to the floor.  Arrow pieces skittered across the slick marble in all directions.  Ares stomped on the fragments nearest him.  Dazed, Cupid wondered whether Ares was trying to make sure they were dead.

“Ares, what are you--”

Ares turned and snarled at Cupid.  “You piece of shit excuse for a god.”

Uh-oh.  Bad idea to call attention to himself while Ares was this pissed off.  Ares grabbed Cupid by the throat and tossed him against the wall as if he weighed no more than one of Bliss’ toys.

Cupid struggled to his feet and shook his head to reduce the ringing in his ears.  His cock was already pushing against his leather pants. Inevitable.  Ares appeared -- he got hard. A shame to be so predictable.  But it wouldn’t matter if he could use Ares’ rage to get what he wanted: a little punishment and some good, hard fucking.

“Watch the wings, okay?”  Cupid stepped away from the wall and flexed them experimentally.

A big hand grabbed him by the belts crisscrossed over his torso and slammed him backwards.  Ares’ hard fist pinned him against the unyielding stone.

“Fuck the wings. Are you just a stupid, incompetent idiot, or were you trying to play some juvenile joke on me?  Huh?”  Ares punctuated his tirade by jabbing his clenched fist into Cupid’s ribcage.   “I should break you into little pieces and get it over with.  Start by ripping off those damn wings.”

Fear snaked down Cupid’s spine even as his cock throbbed with arousal. Ares in a full rage had to be handled very carefully.  Cupid wanted a little whipping and a big cock up his ass, not broken wings.  Maybe charm and sex appeal could sooth away some of the savagery.  Rotating his hips suggestively, he tried on his sexiest smile, the one with just a little hint of wickedness peeking out at the corners.

“C’mon, Ares.  What’s got a stick up your butt?”

“What is it?  What is it?  I’ll shove a stick up yours.”  Ares’ hips slammed into his, and the big hand fisted in Cupid’s hair.  “Somebody’s arrow pierced my ass.  I ended up on my knees in the fucking dirt vowing undying devotion.  Me, on my knees.”  Ares shook his head as if the thought was unimaginable.  “I recited love poetry.  I changed into these clothes ‘cause she wanted to see me in red.”  Cupid’s head bounced off the wall each time Ares barked another disgusting revelation.  “I was humiliated.  Nobody, especially not some pansy ass with wings, makes a fool out of me.”

Ares did look good.  The red robe, black vest, and shiny black leather belt made an intriguing change from all black and all leather.  That wide belt, in particular, occupied a prominent place in Cupid’s burgeoning fantasies.  Of course, Ares could wear one of Mom’s nightgowns, and Cupid would still want him.

Cupid shimmied his hips, pressing his hard cock into Ares’ groin, while he scrambled for an explanation.  It was hard to think when your head pounded from the beating Ares had given it and your cock screamed for Ares to throw you down on the temple floor and fuck you ‘til you couldn’t walk.  Bliss!  That had to be it.

“Ares. I can explain.”

Ares snarled and pulled harder on Cupid’s hair.

“Must have been Bliss.  Grabbed a spare quiver and started fooling around.”  He grasped Ares’ hips, walked his fingers around and down the cheeks of Ares’ ass, then massaged the tense muscles.  No one on  Olympus gave a better massage.  “Besides, effect’s worn off, right?  If it hadn’t, you’d still be down on your knees instead of here tossing me around.” With their hips pressed together tightly, the feel of Cupid’s hard cock might begin to penetrate Ares’ rage.  If he could just get Ares’ thoughts to turn from wing breaking to penetration…

“You owe me.  And somebody should either lock up the brat or make him behave.” From beneath the velvety red robes, Ares’ cock pulsed against Cupid’s belly.

“Yeah, yeah.  So what’re you gonna do about it.”  Cupid thrust his hips back and forth.  If Ares was getting hard, then the plan was working. Maybe he needed just a little more encouragement.  Leaning forward, he drew a line down the side of Ares’ strong, brown neck with his tongue. “You can punish me.  Wouldn’t you like that?  With the thought, Cupid’s clothing vanished.

Ares looked down their joined bodies at Cupid’s hard, red cock. Cupid nibbled at the spot where Ares’ neck joined his shoulder.  When Ares moaned and bit at Cupid’s lower lip, Cupid knew he had won.  It had been too long since they’d played Cupid’s favorite game. Time for a little punishment, a little comforting, and a lot of fucking.

He shoved Ares away and strolled toward his altar, sure he was giving Ares a splendid view of his well-shaped ass in motion. At the altar, he lay down on his side, folding his wings carefully.  He imagined a white cloth bound around his eyes, and his sight vanished.  Arranging his body in a sultry pose, he wiggled his ass so Ares couldn’t miss the invitation.

Uncle Ares had always been the one to spank him, since Mom was a joke at discipline. In adolescence, his cock hardened each time Ares came near. It hardened more each time Ares turned Cupid over his knee and spanked him. Cupid, who badly wanted Ares to be his first, embarked on a singled-minded campaign to torment and seduce his uncle.  Finally, after months of provocation, Ares lost his temper and administered punishment.  With his shapely bottom still smarting from Ares’ blows, Cupid finally achieved his heart’s desire.  He’d never regretted it.  He only longed for more opportunities.

Soft fabric rustled as Ares approached the altar.  A warm palm pushed the hair back from his face and caressed his cheekbone.  Lips replaced the hand, and Cupid smelled ambrosia and some darker scent brewed from rage and lust.  His cock pulsed as he inhaled the heady fragrance.  He loved the feel of Ares’ lips tracing over his skin.  Ares’ fingers shaped his shoulder and bicep, then traced a line from the nape of his neck down the length of his spine.  Hands molded the shape of his buttocks.  A fingertip slid between the cheeks, teased the tender opening, then slipped down to toy with his balls.

Cupid moaned and undulated his body to encourage the stroking hands. His cock was hot and hard against the cool, smooth stone of the altar. Waiting for what he knew would follow wasn’t easy.

Ares’ hand connected with one cheek in a hard stinging slap.  “Stay still.  No one told you to wiggle your ass like a slut.”  Another slap struck Cupid’s other cheek.  He felt a slight murmur of power as Ares conjured some object from thin air.  “What I have here is braided rope with tough knots tied in the ends.  I don’t know whether it will break the skin.  Let’s try it and see.”

Only moments after Cupid breathed his consent, the rope whistled through the air.  Pain sizzled from where the knot struck the sensitive skin of his right buttock. A hot spear of sensation traveled straight to Cupid’s aching cock.  His whole body hummed with a tantalizing mix of pleasure and pain.  Knowing that it was Ares whipping him made the pain that much sweeter.

As the rope struck again and again, breaking the skin from time to time, Cupid’s hips danced in time to Ares’ rhythmic strokes.  His ass radiated heat from the accumulated blows.  Grinding his leaking cock against the unforgiving stone, he imagined what he might look like to Ares, his ass reddened and marked from the whipping.  His whole body was a bundle of singed nerve endings and naked need.  He loved feeling this vulnerable, this marked.  Just a little more and he’d be ready to explode.

Another blow stung his buttocks, and it was too much. He bit down hard on his own lip, relishing the taste of blood.  Metallic, like mortal blood, but with an undercurrent of sweetness from the ambrosia he consumed every day.  Cupid’s cock spilled semen, and he screamed Ares’ name.  His cock pulsed again and again.

The blows stopped.  Cupid writhed on the altar as the last drops of cum leaked from his cock, then collapsed in an exhausted heap.  Ares moved closer, and heavy fabric chafed against his sore ass.  Ares must still be dressed then.

“Did anyone tell you that you could come?”  Ares’ big, warm body covered his as the words were whispered into his ear. Cupid felt Ares’ hard cock pressing against his sore ass.  “I should punish you more, but I don’t think you could take it.  I love punishing you.  I love to see your ass marked with my stripes.  I’ve always loved it.”

Ares’ lips traveled from his ear lobe, to the nape of his neck, and then down his backbone.  Kisses followed licks, and licks followed tender nips.  After Ares kissed the base of his spine, his touch vanished for a moment.  Cupid moaned at the loss.  In the next heartbeat, Ares’ warm, wet tongue found one of the wounds left by the whip’s sting.

As Ares probed delicately at the damaged flesh, the wound healed.  A rush of pure pleasure surged through Cupid’s body.  His cock began to fill again.  One by one, Ares licked and healed the welts left by the rope.  As each wound healed, Cupid’s cock grew harder and harder.  He thought he’d explode when Ares’ tongue licked and probed at the tight opening between his cheeks.

“Turn over.”  Ares rolled him over and away from the sticky pool of cum left by his orgasm.  Cupid gasped at the contrast between his still sore, hot buttocks and the coolness of the altar’s surface.  He felt another sizzle of power, and his head rested on something soft and cushioned.  Ares straddled his prone body.  Even with the blindfold, he could tell that Ares was still clothed as fabric brushed against his forehead and his shoulders. Ares must have simply lifted the robe’s hem and exposed his gleaming cock.  Cupid’s head was enclosed in a warm, musky, Ares-saturated tent.

“Open your mouth.  Lick me.”  Blindly, Cupid’s tongue reached out to find Ares’ huge, stiff cock.  He licked delicately at the rigid flesh, then held the shaft in place with one hand while the other searched for Ares’ balls.  Cupid weighed the heavy sac in the palm of his hand.  His tongue ran up and down the length of the large vein that began just beneath the cock’s head.  With his eyes blinded, his world narrowed down to taste and touch and sound.  His tongue licked at velvety smooth skin over hot, hard flesh.  He could hear Ares’ breath catch each time Cupid’s tongue completed its stroke.

Moving back up the shaft, Cupid probed delicately at the slit in the cock’s head.  He tongued the spot for a few moments to savor the taste of Ares’ precum.  Sensations danced in his mouth.  Wine-dark, bittersweet, and pure Ares.  He slid his lips down over the moist crown and began sucking Ares’ cock into his mouth.  He breathed in deeply, savoring the earthy scent rising from Ares’ cock and balls.

As Cupid sucked harder and harder, Ares’ breathing quickened.  Each time Ares thrust into Cupid’s willing mouth, he muttered harsh words of need and promise.  Hearing those words, knowing he could make Ares this hungry, Cupid longed to feel Ares’ semen spurting down his throat.

Suddenly, Ares pulled the cock from his mouth.  The blindfold fell from his eyes and slid down the pillow to rest against Cupid’s sweaty shoulder.  Ares’ robes had vanished, so Cupid could see the sweet, rounded balls drawn up into the sac, the thick, rigid shaft, and the reddened, pulsing head dribbling cum.  Before he could reach for the cock again, Ares moved down his body.  Hard cock pressed against hard cock.  Grasping Cupid’s legs behind the knees, Ares draped them over his own legs.  Ares’ oiled cock slipped back and forth in the furrow between Cupid’s cheeks, anointing Cupid with slick moisture.  As Ares leaned forward, Cupid felt Ares’ cock probing the tight, muscular ring.  Cupid gasped, his own hard cock rigid between their bodies.

“Tell me you want it.  Tell me you want to feel my cock push into you.” Ares surrounded him, forearms resting on either side of his head.  His face mirrored his intensity:  skin stretched taut over harsh cheekbones, dark brows arched, lips parted.  “Tell me how much you want me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me.  You know you want to.  You can’t wait to ram your cock into me.”  Cupid barely had time to moan the words before Ares’ tongue thrust into his mouth in tandem with the plunge of his cock into Cupid’s taut hole.  Ares pushed in all the way, and Cupid sucked Ares’ tongue into his mouth.  For a brief moment, Ares’ body was still and Cupid felt stuffed impossibly full.

Pulling out a little way, Ares began to thrust rhythmically.  Cupid groaned each time the stiff cock pushed into him and grasped Ares’ hips to impale himself fully.  Fumbling between their bodies, Ares’ hand found Cupid’s own needy cock.  He pumped Cupid’s cock firmly as he thrust into Cupid’s body again and again.  Cupid clutched at Ares’ arms as he felt every inch of that cock slide in and out of him.

With a final thrust, Ares buried his cock deep inside Cupid and came. He shouted his pleasure as Cupid’s flesh tightened around his pulsing cock.  Cupid thrust himself once more into Ares’ fist, jabbed his tongue to the back of his lover’s throat, and spilled semen all over Ares’ hand and his own sticky abdomen.  Pleasure roared through his body.

Ares rested his forehead against Cupid’s sweaty chest while he regained his breath.  Slowly, he lowered Cupid’s legs to the altar.   Cupid sighed and wrapped his arms around Ares, struggling to hold him close for a moment longer.  Ares never allowed much cuddling.  Cupid savored the moment while he could.  Finally, Ares pulled out his cock, kissed Cupid full on the mouth, and turned over to lie next to him on the altar.

For a little while, the two gods said nothing.  Cupid turned on his side and lifted his head to the palm of his hand, shifting his legs for comfort.  His spent cock was almost hidden between them.  Ares was sprawled over the altar. Cupid wished he could read Ares’ thoughts since that kiss had seemed so promising.  Cupid leaned over and nipped playfully at Ares’ full lower lip.

“So, who was the great love of your life?”

Ares tried to summon a look of anger, but gave up, laughing. “Gabrielle. At least I got to fuck her.”

“And?”

“Not bad.  Practically a virgin, though. Nobody’s been in there more than a few times.  Don’t think she realized how good it could feel. And, boy, is she a screamer when she comes.”

Cupid watched as some thought summoned a scowl to Ares’ face.  “Shit.  I know she’s gonna tell everybody I raped her.  I had her screaming and begging for more of my cock, and she won’t be able to stand it.”

No great shock that Gabrielle had begged for more.  With Ares, everyone did.  “Not a problem. We’ll slap her with a little truth spell.  If she talks about it at all, she’ll have to tell the truth.”  Cupid thought for a moment.  “Or we could just make her forget all about it.”

Ares’ face reminded Cupid of a large cat playing with its prey.  “Nah. I want her to remember the screaming and begging.  If she remembers the poetry too, it’s a small price to pay.”

The two gods exchanged smiles of rare accord.  Cupid’s fingers tiptoed through the dark curling hair on Ares’ chest and paused at his flat nipple.  He tapped it with his fingernail, once, twice.  A small pucker rewarded his efforts.  Since Ares seemed to be happy with him for the moment, he might as well take full advantage of it.  He leaned over to place a deep, slow kiss on Ares’ parted lips.  Ares started to reach for him.  For a moment, Cupid held him off.

“What a god has to put up with to get a little.  Next time, let’s skip the wing threats and go straight to the spanking.  Okay?”

The End
 

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