Satisfied At Last (Mythology Erotic Romance): Part Twelve of the Erotic Adventures of Heraklea Read online

  Maybe I can just stay there, Klea thought.

  She left right away. Laconia wasn’t so far, and she just wanted to get out of the palace as soon as possible. Klea wasn’t sure what she’d do when she was done — she’d been considering asking if she could stay, but he was marrying someone else, that was off for sure — but right now she was thinking of being a monster-killer-for-hire.

  Not that she’d killed a lot of monsters yet. She’d mostly fucked them, but that was a minor detail.

  Klea spent the night at an inn and then, the next morning, asked if the innkeeper knew where the entrance to the underworld was.

  He frowned. “Why you need to know?” he said.

  It took all Klea’s willpower not to roll her eyes. “I’m on an errand from the king,” she said. “It’s complicated.”

  “Dangerous place for a nice young thing like you.”

  “I’m not that nice,” she said.

  He said nothing.

  “Just tell me,” she said, exasperated.

  Five minutes later she was on her way, looking for a windmill in a wheat field near two brown horses, after which she would turn left at the old stone wall and then look for the rocky outcropping. Then, the man had said, she’d “figure it out from there.”

  She made it to the outcropping, tied up the horse, went around the back of it, and immediately understood what the innkeeper had meant. There was a massive opening — a doorway, really — that shimmered with some sort of dark, magnetic energy. Klea took a deep breath and stuck her hand through. The air inside felt cold and almost like liquid, but made her hand tingle.

  She pulled it out, making a face. She couldn’t see a thing beyond the blackness.

  Then she just stepped through. The outer layer of her skin tingled and then went slightly numb, even though it wasn’t that cold inside the cave. No colder than a regular cave. There was just enough gray light, though she couldn’t see where it was coming from, that she found her way through the narrow, rocky passages. The light always seemed to be coming from above as she went down and down into the earth, but it had no source.

  Finally, she came to a river, the same inky, depthless black as the door to the underworld. She knew where she was, the Styx, which she had to cross to get in, with the ferryman, Charon. There he was, standing tall, mostly skeletal, perfectly still and just waiting. Klea swallowed and walked over.

  “Hi,” she said. She was positive it was exactly the wrong thing to say to a guardian of the underworld, but hell if she knew how to address him. “Is this where I board?”

  That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, she thought.

  Charon leaned down from his height and she saw that under his hood, his face was skeletal, completely expressionless. Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a few moments, she was afraid that he would just throw her into the river with all the other bad souls that tried to pull something on him.

  For long moments, neither of them moved.

  Then she realized his hand was out.

  Of course, she thought, and dug in her coin belt. She pulled one out and put it in his hand.

  Charon turned around and walked to the front of his rowboat. It didn’t rock at all when he walked, only when Klea boarded and sat in the middle, utterly mindful of going over the edge.

  The crossing was surprisingly uneventful. She got off the other side without the dark ferryman ever saying a word to her, and continued down the oddly lit path.

  Slowly, she became aware that the air around her seemed thick, almost foggy and she could nearly make out shapes in the fog. Faces maybe.

  The dead, she thought, and a shiver went down her spine. To distract herself, she tried to think of how she’d get the dog. She couldn’t fuck Cerberus himself, of course, but surely he had some sort of trainer who could be convinced. Maybe even Hades himself, along with Persephone, his kidnapped wife. They were down here in the dark all the time, they probably got up to some kinky shit.

  Abruptly, she went around a corner and suddenly there was an entrance to a huge cave, filled with half-light and dead trees and clearly visible souls, floating around, moaning. At the entrance sat a huge bulldog with the three heads, dead asleep.

  Obviously that was Cerberus, but he didn’t really seem as dangerous as she’d heard. She took a step closer, and then another step, and then another. When she was about a foot away, all three heads finally woke up, and the strange dog stretched, shook himself, and then licked her ankle.

  “Good boy,” said Klea, reflexively, and then something hit her on the back of the head and she was out.

  When she came to, she was sitting in a straight-backed chair, hands tied behind her, in front of two thrones. The scene looked familiar, but instead of the light-drenched marble halls of Olympus, everything was black and purple, the strange sourceless light glowing everywhere, the walls and recesses of the room lost in the darkness.

  “You,” said a booming voice, issuing from the man in the chair on the left, “Are not permitted here.” He watched her with deep-set coal-black eyes, set around with a network of fine lines, his near-black hair swept straight back over his head. He looked tired, Klea thought, a little surprised that Hades, god of the underworld, would look like that. Thin, too, though he grasped the arms of his throne with his long white hands very much in the same way his brother Zeus did.

  Klea looked from him to his wife and back. He wasn’t much, but she was: long, deep red hair that set off the near-translucence of her skin. Ruby red lips and dark eyes, a beautiful dark dress made of feathers, bosom prominently displayed.

  She thought about burying her face in Persephone’s bosom. God, I bet I could make her scream, she thought.

  “You have nothing to say?”

  She cleared her throat and stopped thinking about Persephone’s tits.

  “I am here on a mission from Zeus,” she said. It was true-ish.

  Both of them raised their eyebrows in unison.

  “He has sent me to claim Cerberus in the name of King Eurystheus of Rhodes.”

  They looked at each other. This was where, in Klea’s experience, someone usually said, well, what will you do for me, and then a few minutes later everyone was naked in a sweaty, orgasmic pile. An anticipatory tingle began between her legs, and she tried not to look too excited.

  “For how long?” Persephone asked.

  Hades looked at her sharply.

  “I’m not really sure,” Klea said. “Couple weeks maybe?” Her task hadn’t been to take him permanently, she reasoned. She could perfectly well give him to the king for a while and then take him home.

  “He’s guarding the underworld,” Hades said in a low voice to his wife.

  “Is he?” she said. “He seems to mostly be napping by the door.”

  “He’s very frightening.”

  “He’s depressed, dear,” she said. “Let him go with this nice lady, he’ll get some sunshine and exercise.” There was a long, significant pause. “The underworld is for dead people. Everyone else needs to be let out once in a while.”

  They stared at each other, and Klea distinctly felt as though she was intruding on a much bigger argument.

  “We can’t just let everyone in.”

  “She got in, didn’t she? Right past him.”

  Hades glowered.

  “He shat in my slipper this morning. He’s depressed. He needs to get out.” Her white fingers drummed on the armrest of her throne.

  “We can talk about this later,” Hades said, and turned to Klea. “Two weeks,” he said.

  Klea blinked in surprise. It was that easy?

  “Okay,” she said.

  Hades whistled, and then everyone in the throne room waited. And waited. Finally, Cerberus came walking in, all three heads drooping.

  “Do you know where his leash is?” Hades asked Persephone.

  “Why is that my job?” she said.

  A day later, Klea and Cerberus, who had perked up almost immediately upon his return to th
e surface, stood by the gates to the palace, waiting for the procession from Athens to go through them. So far, it had taken at least ten minutes, and Klea had to pee. She supposed that the Athens delegation was trying to be impressive.

  As she watched, a palanquin made its way slowly up the column, carried by four burly men, its sides all well-covered with hanging curtains. As it approached, Klea saw one eye peeking out, and she saw just a sliver of face: gold decorations in the hair, smoky kohl all around the eye. One hand, decked out in rings. All in all, she thought, the person inside couldn’t be more than sixteen, and then it dawned on her: that was the Athenian princess.

  Klea stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a better view, but the girl was gone, ensconced back inside her box.

  I’d like a palanquin, Klea thought to herself. I just could just stop it anywhere and have my way with one of the bearers inside it. No one would ever know. It would be like a walking sex box.

  She liked the idea very much.

  Klea skipped the ceremonies welcoming the Athenians to Rhodes, telling the messenger the king sent to get her that she had diarrhea. She was just beginning to go into detail when the man turned green and ran off, so instead of listening to some bullshit speeches and ceremonies, she packed her things in preparation to leave the palace.

  Then, well into the night, two guards knocked on her door.

  “King’s chambers,” one said, and Klea could tell from his tone of voice that they’d been ordered to get her there no matter what.

  “I’ll come quietly,” she said.

  She could have sworn one of them half-smiled at that.

  In the king’s chambers, he lounged on a sofa, Cerberus napping on his back on a massive cushion, all three heads snoring in unison. He was in more disarray than Klea had ever seen him: his hair was slightly mussed, his clothes a little less than perfectly pressed. He was leaning back on the sofa, actually looking comfortable, instead of having the usual stick up his ass.

  She wondered when the right to bring up the whole “You followed me and watched me have sex,” thing would be.

  “I didn’t see you during the welcome ceremonies,” he began. One of Cerberus’ hind legs twitched.

  “I wasn’t feeling well.”

  “Is that so?” the king said, mildly. “Feeling better now?”

  She said nothing. She wondered where the princess was: probably asleep, she thought, and not getting dragged out of her quarters at all hours of the night to answer to some sociopath.

  “I am still the king here,” he said. “And so long as you’re in my lands, you need to obey my orders.”

  “I’ll be gone in the morning,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

  He looked at Cerberus, still sound asleep. “That was twelve, wasn’t it?”

  Klea nodded.

  “How’d you do it?”

  “I asked.”

  He looked at her for a long moment.

  “And then?”

  “Persephone said he’d been depressed and he needed sunlight and air. You’ve got him for two weeks.”

  “What really happened?” he asked. He narrowed his eyes at her and leaned forward on the couch, a little menacing even though he was still sitting down.”

  “That’s it,” she said.

  Don’t say more, she thought, and maybe you can just go and forget about all of this.

  “I was looking forward to fucking them both, though.” Goddammit, she thought.

  The king smiled.

  “But you knew that,” Klea said, unable to stop her mouth now. “You like watching, too, and you like hearing about everything I do, because you’re some sort of pervert.”

  “Am I?”

  “You send me out to fuck monsters and then marry some sixteen-year-old virgin from Athens who’s afraid to even peek out the curtains of her litter,” she said. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

  The king stood and walked to where she was. Klea was tall but he was taller, wider: easily a physical match.

  “You’re dismissed,” he said to the guards without breaking eye contact with Klea.

  They bowed and filed out of the room, and then she was alone with him.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I know everything you’ve done.” He stepped forward and she stepped back once, twice, three times, and then they were at the edge of his massive feather bed.

  Klea couldn’t help but notice his enormous erection.

  “Everything?” she said.

  “Most everything,” he said. “There are a few spots you could fill in for me, though.”

  She licked her dry lips. “Like what?”

  “The Amazons,” he said. “They’re not very forthcoming.”

  “Lesbians,” she said. “I licked the Queen until she came, and then her lover.”

  He growled, low in his throat.

  “She wouldn’t let me come until she was finished, so she kept on bringing me to the brink and then back. It drove me wild. I begged her to let me finish, but she just wouldn’t. Not until I fisted her, my entire hand in her pussy. She squirted like you wouldn’t believe. Came so hard I was afraid she’d break my hand inside her.”

  The king swallowed, his face growing flushed. Even though it felt dangerous, Klea couldn’t help herself any longer: she’d wanted him almost since she set foot in the palace. She reached down for his enormous, tumescent cock, but just as she touched it he grabbed her arm, whirled her around, and threw her facedown on the bed. Then he jerked both arms up behind her, holding them together, pinning her down.

  “Didn’t you get fisted yourself?” he asked. “The time you came back wearing a lion skin.”

  She nodded against the bed.

  “Did you like it?”

  “He fucked me first,” she said, her voice a little muffled. “He held me down, just like this, after I sucked him off. I’d been trying to fuck your guards for weeks and I was so ready to go I came in about thirty seconds.”

  “They were under strict orders not to have sex with you,” he said.

  “I figured.”

  “Tell me about being fisted.”

  “I was so wet from getting fucked I didn’t even need lube. It was just like this, he bent me over and held my arms behind me, and then put one fingers at a time in my pussy until they were all there. I thought I might explode but instead I just came, and came.”

  Her cunt began to ache at the memory.

  “That wasn’t my favorite, though,” the king said. He moved to stand right behind her, his still-clothed cock nestled right against her cunt and ass cheeks, rubbing up against her.

  Klea tried to stand on her toes, hoping he’d rub against her harder. Anything for that beautiful cock.

  “The centaur gangbang was good,” he said. “They were very complimentary afterward, totally impressed that you fucked all of them in one afternoon.”

  “Centaur cocks are enormous,” she said. “Like being impaled.”

  “Especially the one you took in the ass,” he said.

  Klea grunted, facedown on the bed, thinking of that enormous cock in her ass.

  “But I think I like it best when you perform,” he said.

  “Like the apples,” she said. “I saw you there.”

  “Mmmm,” he said, rutting hard against her, rubbing his dick between her cheeks. She thought she must have soaked through her thin linen dress by then. Surely he could feel that.

  “Strange thing for a king to do,” she went on. “Even after I volunteered to fuck all your guards for you.”

  “They talk,” he said. Abruptly, he released her arms and she lowered them to her sides. As soon as she did he grabbed her by the hips, pulled her to him until she was standing, and then grabbed her hair, yanking her head back so her throat was exposed. With his other hand he touched one breast and then the other, through her thin linen dress, her back uncomfortably arched.

  “Tell me your favorite,” he whispered. With his free hand he drew circles around one nipple, the other hand sti
ll tight around her hair.

  Klea was breathing hard, half from arousal and half from being yanked around like this. She swallowed and licked her lips.

  “The stables,” she said.

  “Ahh,” he said.

  “There were these two river gods,” she said. “These two beautiful men, like they were cut from marble or something.”

  “Two of them.”

  “I was napping on a rock in the sun, trying to avoid shoveling,” she said, closing her eyes as the hand made its way around her nipples. It stroked down her belly. “Next thing I know, these two beautiful men are in front of me, flirting, and in a few minutes I’m making out with both of them, right there outside, in public.”

  “Then?”

  Klea shifted her hips forward a little, hoping he’d move his hand down and relieve some of her pressure. “I got on my knees and start sucking them both off,” she said. “They had wonderful cocks, long and hard and thick. They even tasted delicious. Then one of them got behind me, on his knees, and he fucked me from behind while I sucked on the other one.”

  “They come?”

  “More than once,” she said. She licked her lips again. More than anything she wanted for him to reach down, touch her cunt and relieve her; maybe bend her back over the bed and take her, hard, his beautiful cock slamming into her, filling her up.

  Instead, his light touch went on tormenting her.

  “After that they both fucked me at once,” she said. “One in my cunt and one in my ass. I thought I might explode, it felt so good. I love having that much cock in me. I just came and came and came and thought I might never stop coming.”

  He pulled her hair back and she bumped into him, his long, hard cock poking at her lower back.

  “I do love a good cock,” she said.

  Instead of turning her around or putting her on the bed, the king pulled her hair down, not stopping until Klea was on her knees, next to the bed. He let go of her hair and Klea heard fabric hitting the ground with a loud whomp, and then he stepped in front of her, put his hands around her throat, softly, both thumbs on her windpipe.